Java
by Erin T. Aardvark
Summary: Top Cat and the gang help a small coffee shop from going bankrupt due to a large gourmet coffee chain.
1. My Kingdom for a Cup of Coffee

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Something a little different here. Be kind folks, this is my first attempt at a Top Cat story. Now for the legal stuff. Top Cat, Benny, Choo-Choo, Brain, Fancy, Spook, and Officer Dibble belong to Hanna-Barbera. Anyone else you encounter in the fanfic is mine (though there is a bit of a gray area with Calvin Collins; if you've read my Impossibles fanfic, you will remember I use this as Coil Man's real name. This is a bit of a crossover, but it's more along the lines of a "pre-Impossibles" story, meaning Coil Man is younger, he doesn't have his superpowers yet, and the other two aren't in this). Also this story is supposed to be set in 1961 (which would make this a bit of an AU where my Impossibles stories are concerned). Anyway, onto the fanfic!

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The sun rose over the large, New York skyscrapers. It was another day in the city, bustling with activity. Over in Hoagy's Alley, Top Cat (TC to his friends) woke up, yawned and stretched, climbing out of his trash can.

"Boy, oh boy, what a night," he said, groggily. "I gotta stop going to those all night drive in movies. Of course last night was an exception. After all, who could walk out on a Gina Lollapalooza film festival? Now she is worth sitting on the drive in fence for three hours straight! And also worth the splinters in the rear end. Boy, could I use a good cup of coffee about now."

TC grabbed the lid of his trash can, and snagged a second lid, and then he began banging them together. Exactly one second later, TC's gang appeared.

"What took you guys so long?" TC asked.

"Sorry, TC," Choo-Choo said. "But we hit a red light on the corner of fifth and main."

"Excuses, excuses," TC said. "All right, men, we are gonna get us a cup of coffee. Now then, who wants to donate first to our coffee fund?"

"But, TC," Fancy said. "Don't you remember, we donated all the money we had for the Gina Lollapalooza film festival last night."

"Yeah, like, I'm still picking splinters out of my tush," Spook said, yanking a splinter from his rear end.

"Duh, I've got money TC," Brain said. "I got seventy-five cents."

"Seventy-five cents," TC said. "That'll be enough to get us all a cup of coffee. Now, let me see . . . . . where can we get a good cup of coffee?"

"Duh, what about Schultz's Delicatessen?" Brain suggested, naming one of the gang's hangouts.

"Nah, I can't stand Schultz's coffee," TC said. "It has the consistency of molten tar."

"Yeah," Choo-Choo agreed. "And it tastes like mud."

"Maybe that's where they got the idea of calling a cup of coffee a cup of mud," Benny said. "What about the diner on eighth street, TC?"

"Nah, they won't serve cats," TC said. "Something about attracting mice there."

"Duh, maybe we could buy some instant at the grocery store," Brain said. "You know they say Maxwell House is good the last drop."

"Good thinking Brain," TC said, sarcastically. "And just how are we going to brew it without a percolator?"

"I know, TC," Fancy said. "We could try that new coffee chain, Apollo's. Nancy says their coffee is to die for."

"Nancy?" TC repeated. "New girlfriend, huh?"

"Yeah," Fancy said.

"Hmm," TC said, thoughtfully. "Fancy and Nancy. You guys make a cute couple already. So what kind of a place is Apollo's, Fancy?"

"Nancy said it was a gourmet coffee place," Fancy replied.

"Well, I'm a gourmet," TC said. "Let's check this out."

So the six cats left the alley, and walked to Apollo's Coffee House. Or at least one of them. The city had about ten of them in total. TC walked up to the man behind the counter, and tipped his hat.

"Good morning, my good man," he said. "Six cups of your finest coffee."

"Ya want dat in regular, large, or Whoa Mama?" the man behind the counter asked.

"Regular's fine," TC said. "After all, we wouldn't want to be bouncing all over the city streets from a caffeine buzz, now do we?"

"Okay, dat'll be twenty-tree dollars and seventy cents."

"_What_?!"

"You heard me, pal. Twenty-three seventy."

"Twenty-three seventy for coffee?!"

"Ya just bought six cups, mac. It's tree ninety-five. Large is four ninety-five, and Whoa Mama is six ninety-five."

"A little steep, don't you think?"

"It's gourmet."

(incidentally, the guy behind the counter pronounced the word as it's spelled)

"Well . . . . ." TC said, thoughtfully. "What can I get for seventy-five cents?"

"Gee, I dunno," the guy behind the counter said. "Lemme check. Hey Eddie! What can ya get here for seventy-five cents?"

"What?!" another clerk shouted. He walked over to the counter and looked at TC and the first clerk.

"Dis guy asked me what he can get for seventy-five cents," he said.

"Oh that's rich!" Eddie shouted, and then he began to laugh hysterically. "That's a good one! Seventy-five cents! What a great joke! Ha, ha, ha, ha!"

Eddie then realized that TC wasn't laughing. He was just standing there, looking a bit confused.

"Oh my gosh, you're serious," Eddie said. "Well, errrmmm . . . . for seventy-five cents, you can get like a two second whiff of any of our coffees."

"That's it?" TC asked. "You've got to be kidding. The coffee at Schultz's Delicatessen doesn't cost as much as this!"

"It's gourmet," Eddie said, shrugging.

"Let's get outta here," TC said, and he and his gang walked out of the place.

"What do we do now, TC?" Choo-Choo asked.

"Yeah, looks like we'll have to go to Schultz's after all," Benny replied.

"I refuse to drink molten tar," TC said. "I've got a better idea."

Five minutes later, a woman was coming out of Apollo's with a cup of coffee, when TC, now wearing a large, round button on his vest reading "Coffee Inspector," approached her.

"Pardon me, madam," he said. "But I need to have a word with you?"

"A word?" the woman asked. "About what?"

"About that cup of coffee," TC went on. "See, I am the official New York Coffee Inspector. I've been called in because we've gotten reports of the coffee at Apollo's might not be made from coffee beans."

"What?!"

"Yes, ma'am, we've gotten reports of navy beans, pinto beans, black beans, kidney beans, lima beans, green beans, and garbanzo beans all masquerading as coffee beans."

"Oh my word."

"I just need to take a quick look at your cup of coffee . . . . ."

TC then took the lady's coffee cup, and began to "inspect" it.

"Mmm hmmm," he said. "I thought so. Lady, the beans in this cup of coffee are . . . . ."

"The ol' Coffee Inspector bit again, eh, Top Cat?" a familiar voice, all too familiar to TC, asked. He knew it belonged to the local policeman, Officer Dibble.

"One hundred percent coffee beans," TC said, quickly, and handed the coffee back to the lady. "Here's your coffee, ma'am, but don't leave town!"

"Well!" the woman huffed, and walked away.

"Good morning, Officer Dribble," TC said. "I was just looking for a good cup of coffee."

"Watch it, wise guy," Officer Dibble said. "You know I could run you in for that scam!"

"What's the matter, Dib?" TC asked. "Can't you take a joke?"

"Some joke! If I catch you running this Coffee Inspector bit again . . . . ."

"I know, I know, you'll throw the book at me."

And with that, TC and his gang left the vicinity of Apollo's.

"Now what do we do, TC?" Choo-Choo asked.

"I guess we go drink hot tar," TC said, shrugging. "Because I don't know any other place around here where we can get a cup of coffee for seventy-five cents!"

"Hey, like, TC, I think I know a place," Spook said. "I go there all the time, when I've got cash on hand."

"Is the coffee any good, or is it mud?" TC asked.

"It's good coffee," Spook said. "But I gotta warn you, man, the place is kinda . . . . . well, it's, like, kinda beatnik, you know? They get a lot of, like, beat cats there, dig?"

"Yeah, jive turkeys," TC said.

"Well, man, like, they aren't _all _beatniks," Spook said. "Just try the place, TC."

"All right," TC sighed. "I figure _any_thing's better than a cup of hot tar at Schultz's!"


	2. Martha's Coffee Shoppe

Spook led the other cats to a small shop about five blocks from their alley. The neon sign read "Martha's Coffee Shoppe."

"Like, this is the place," Spook said. "Come on."

The cats walked through the door and down a flight of stairs. The place was a bit dim, but then again, most coffee houses are. There weren't too many people there. There were about three customers at the tables. Over by the counter was a woman, maybe in her mid thirties, early forties at most, with frosted blond hair, a young man in his twenties, with dark red-brown hair, and a teenage girl, about sixteen, with brown hair in pigtails. Also at the counter were two kids. A chubby blond haired boy, around eleven years old, and a brown haired girl, at least four or five years of age. The teenage girl saw the cats come in, and take a table, and she walked over to them.

"Hi," she said, cheerfully. "What can I get you?"

"What can we get for seventy-five cents?" TC asked.

"Seventy-five cents," the girl said. "That can get you six regular cups of coffee, and a dozen doughnuts. Or six large cups of coffee and fifteen cents left over."

"Sounds good to me, TC," Choo-Choo said.

"Okay, bring it on," TC said. "Six regular coffees, and that dozen doughnuts. I'm hungry."

"All right," the girl said. "I'll be right back."

"This is a nice place, Spook," Choo-Choo said, looking around. "It's nice and quiet."

"So where are all the beatniks?" Benny asked.

"Like, beats me," Spook said. Suddenly, the lights turned down, and a spotlight hit the small stage in the back of the shop. A sign by the stage read "Beebee Beatnik and Her Poetry."

"I guess that answers your question, Benny," TC commented.

The curtain opened, and on stage was a white anthro cat, like TC and his gang. She had long black hair, and wore a black turtleneck, black capris, a black beret, and sunglasses. Then she started snapping her fingers, as bongo music began.

"Like, dig," she said. "Once upon a long way back, there was a chick. Like this chick Mary had this real swingin' sheep. Like a real leg o' lamb. And this lambie followed the chick like everywhere she went. One day, like, Mary baby bopped into a wild meat packin' factory. Now she had her lamb with mint jelly. Crazy."

The two patrons began snapping their fingers rapidly (beatnik applause), as Beebee took a bow. Then, she began reciting another "poem."

"Like, dig this cat name of Jack," she said. "And he dug, like, jumpin' this candle. He, like, found this to be a gas, man, but his friends . . . . wow, like strictly squaresville. Crazy."

More beatnik applause. TC just stared at Beebee as if she were completely nuts. But apparently, Spook had another opinion.

"Like, I'm diggin' how deep she is," he said.

"If you dig any deeper, you're going to need a shovel," TC commented, just as the waitress came back with their coffee and doughnuts.

"Duh, why would anyone want to pack a lamb in mint jelly?" Brain asked.

"Forget it, Brain," Choo-Choo said.

"I see you guys got an earful of Beebee," the waitress said.

"Yeah, _that's_ for sure," TC said. "Great looking girl, but what's with that poetry? I don't get it."

"Don't worry about that," the waitress said. "Nobody else does, either."

Beebee then got off stage, and walked over to a table adjacent from TC's. Fancy, being the ladies' cat of the group, got up, and walked over to her.

"Hiya, bay-bee," he said. "What's a nice gal like you doing in a place like this? What do you say you and me go paint the town red?"

"He's quick, I'll give him that," TC commented.

"Wow, like, are you ever squaresville," Beebee said. "I mean, like, you don't swing. Like snoresville."

"What?" Fancy asked, a little confused. "What did she say?"

"Like, I'll translate, Fancy, baby," Spook said. "She doesn't dig you."

"Right on, brother," Beebee said.

"You must be losing your touch, Fancy," TC said. "No girl has ever turned you down before."

"Minor set back," Fancy replied. "Oh well. There's plenty more fish in the sea."

"Duh, why would you want to go out with a fish?" Brain asked. The others just groaned.

TC took his coffee and began drinking it, half expecting, for a cheap cup, it was going to taste like turpentine or something. But to his surprise, it was actually pretty good.

"Hey, now _this_ is a cup of coffee!" he shouted.

"The doughnuts are pretty good, too," Benny said.

"Mom'll be glad to hear it," the waitress said.

"Mom?" TC asked.

"Yeah," the waitress replied. "My mom owns this place."

The waitress left for the moment, but TC was a little confused about something.

"I don't get it," he said. "The coffee here is cheap, and it tastes great, so why is this place so empty?"

"Like, beats me, dad," Spook said, shrugging.

"Maybe they're all over at Apollo's or something," Benny suggested.

Before TC could respond, someone came into the shop. It was a man wearing an expensive business suit. He started heading directly for the counter. The eleven-year-old and the five-year-old jumped down from their stools and ran behind the counter as fast as they could. The older woman (TC assumed was Martha), glared at him.

"What do _you_ want?" she asked.

"I've come to see if you changed your mind about selling the place, Mrs. Collins," the man said. "This would be a perfect location for my chain."

"Mr. Starbuck," Martha said. "I've told you already, I am _not_ interested in selling my shop."

"Besides," the eleven-year-old said. "There are ten Apollo's stores in the city already. And they're really hurting Mom's business."

"Precisely why you should sell, Mrs. Collins," Mr. Starbuck said. "You can't _possibly_ compete with my gourmet coffees, and you _do_ have three children to put through college."

"I've put one child through college already, Mr. Starbuck," Martha said. "The answer is no."

"Business is bound to pick up eventually," the young man with the reddish-brown hair said, shrugging.

"Very well, then," Mr. Starbuck said. "But let me tell you something, Mrs. Collins. It might be easier for you to sell now. Because if business keeps going the way it's been going for you, you'll be filing for bankruptcy in a matter of weeks."

And with that, Mr. Starbuck left.

"Did you hear that, TC?" Choo-Choo asked.

"I did," TC said. "And I don't like the sound of that one bit. Come on, gang."

TC and his gang walked up to the counter, and TC climbed on one of the stools.

"Pardon me," he said. "I couldn't help but overhear that conversation."

"How could you miss it?" the dark-haired young man asked.

"Jerry . . . ." Martha said, shooting him a Look.

"Anyway," TC continued. "I'd hate to see this place go. This is the best coffee I've ever had. I'd like to help you out."

"That's kind of you, Mr . . . ." Martha said.

"Top Cat," TC said. "And these are my associates. Benny the Ball, Choo-Choo, Fancy-Fancy, Spook, and the Brain."

"Thanks for the offer, Mr. Top Cat," Martha said. "But I don't see exactly how you could help me."

"You leave everything to me, Mrs . . . . Collins, is it?" TC said.

"Yes," Martha said. "Martha Collins. And these are my kids, Reine, Calvin, and Courtney. And this is Jerry Campanelli, my head waiter."

"And only waiter," Jerry said.

"Like I said, you leave everything to me, Mrs. Collins," TC said. "And we'll have this place outselling Apollo's within a week!"

And with that, TC and his gang left.

"How are we gonna pull this off, TC?" Choo-Choo asked.

"I'll think of something, Chooch," TC said. "One thing's for sure, we can _not_ let this place go under. If it does, we're stuck drinking that slop Schultz's calls coffee!"


	3. Surprise, Surprise

The next morning, Officer Dibble was walking to his beat, when he happened across one of the Apollo's stores. Choo-Choo was walking up and down the street, wearing a sandwich board.

"What's Top Cat up to now?" he asked.

Officer Dibble continued walking along, and came across another one of the city's Apollo's shops. Brain was in front of this one, also marching back and forth, and wearing a sandwich board. It was the same at two more Apollo's shops. He saw Spook wearing a sandwich board at one, and Fancy at another. This was getting ridiculous. Finally, he saw Benny marching up and down the street at a fifth Apollo's location.

"Hold it, Benny!" he shouted. "Come here for a minute."

"Oh, hi, Officer Dibble," Benny said, walking over. "What's new?"

"Benny, what are you doing walking up and down the street wearing that thing?" Officer Dibble asked.

"Oh this is TC's idea," Benny said. "We're advertising Martha's Coffee Shoppe."

"In front of Apollo's Coffee House?" Officer Dibble asked.

"Like I said, it's TC's idea."

"Looks like I'd better have a little word with TC."

Officer Dibble went to the alley, and found Top Cat reclining in his trash can, and talking on the police phone.

"Hello, operator?" he asked. "Could you connect me to the Coffee Roaster's Association of America? Thank you very much."

"Okay, Top Cat!" Officer Dibble shouted. "Put that phone back!"

"Hello, operator?" TC asked. "Cancel that call. Well, well, well, if it isn't Officer Dibble. I was just checking to make sure there weren't any loose connections."

"Very funny. How many times do I gotta tell ya to stay off my phone?!"

"Sorry, Dib, it slipped my mind, what with this short term memory, and all. What was your name again? I seem to have forgot."

"Don't get cute, Top Cat. Stay off my phone! Incidentally, what are you up to, anyway?"

"What do you mean what am I up to? What makes you think I'm up to something?"

"I saw your gang marching around in front of various Apollo's stores, wearing these sandwich boards advertising some coffee shop or another."

"Oh that. Well, let me tell you a little story, Officer Dibble. It will tug at your heart strings. You see, once upon a time, there was a little fish named Martha who owned a little coffee house and she served the best cup of joe this side of the Mississippi River. One day, that little fish named Martha was approached by a great big fish named Mr. Starbuck. And this great big fish owned a great big coffee house chain. He wanted Martha to sell her little coffee shop to him so he could build another one of his stores where Martha's shop was. Martha didn't want to sell, see, but her business wasn't doing so hot because of all the people going to Mr. Starbuck's big store. Poor Martha didn't know what to do, so a kind, sweet, lovable, handsome cat entered the picture. He vowed to save Martha's little coffee shop, so do you know what he did? He started an advertising campaign, that's what he did! And Martha's little shop was saved, and the kind, sweet, lovable, handsome cat got all the coffee he could drink for free because Martha was so thankful to him for saving her little shop. The end! Now isn't that the most heart warming story you've ever heard?"

"I don't buy it, TC," Officer Dibble said. "There must be something going on down there, on the side. Why else would you get involved?"

"For a good cup of coffee, I get involved. Apollo's prices are sky high, and Schultz's coffee tastes like mud."

"I still don't buy it. What goes on down there, Top Cat? Gambling?"

"Why, Officer Dibble, I am _shocked_ you could make such a suggestion! Look, I'll tell ya what I'm gonna do, Dib. I'll show you the place myself. Heck, I'll even treat you to a cup of coffee."

"Now I'm _really_ suspicious about this place! But I'll go along with the gag, anyway."

TC shrugged, and he and Officer Dibble made their way to Martha's Coffee Shoppe. The place was almost empty as usual, with the exception of two or three customers, Beebee sitting on the edge of the small stage, writing, and Martha's head (and only) waiter, Jerry Campanelli, wiping down the counter and singing "Strangers in the Night," a bit off key.

"Well, well, if it isn't Ol' Brown Eyes himself," TC said.

"Oh, hiya, Top Cat," Jerry said, clearing his throat. "I, uhhh, I was just . . . . you know, it helps pass the time between customers."

"Like, he thinks he's Sinatra," Beebee said from the stage. "Crazy. Like, wowsville, man, is he ever, like, yecchh!"

"I'll take his Sinatra over your poetry any day," TC chided.

"Like, squaresville you are, daddy-o," Beebee said. "You ain't hip to the jive."

"What'd she say?" Officer Dibble asked.

"I dunno, Spook isn't here to translate," TC said, shrugging. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a dime he had managed to scrounge up. "Anyway, Jerry-boy, two cups of your best coffee."

"Gotcha," Jerry said, catching the dime as TC flipped it into the air. Then he went back into the kitchen.

"Notice how they didn't run screaming about this being a police raid, Dib?" TC said.

"Very funny," Officer Dibble said, looking around. "Boy, this place is pretty empty."

"Yeah, Martha hasn't done much business since Apollo's opened," Jerry said coming out of the kitchen with the coffee. "Here you go, guys."

"Thanks, Jer," TC said. "So now you see why we're doing the sandwich board bit, Dib? We've gotta spread the word about the coffee here."

"Hey, this is pretty good coffee," Officer Dibble replied. "Better than that instant they brew down at the station."

"Yeah, that's Martha," Jerry commented. "She grinds the beans herself. She's got a brother-in-law in Hawaii who owns a coffee plantation, so she gets her beans for free."

"There's nothing like fresh, home made coffee, is there, Dib?" TC asked.

"Yeh, that's for sure," Officer Dibble said. "Last time I had coffee this good was in my high school days."

"Was that when dinosaurs roamed the Earth, or was it sometime during the Black Plague?" TC asked.

"Watch it, smart aleck," Officer Dibble said, glaring at TC. "Actually, this kinda tastes like the coffee Marty Manning used to make."

"Hi, Top Cat," Martha said, coming out of the kitchen. "Jerry said you came by. How's it going with the advertising campaign?"

"Well, we just started," TC said. "Hopefully we'll some more customers in here. Oh, by the way, this is our local lawman, Officer Dibble. Officer Dibble, Mrs. Collins."

"Chuck?" Martha asked, looking at Officer Dibble. "Chuck, is that really you?"

"Chuck?" TC repeated.

"Marty Manning!" Officer Dibble shouted. "I knew that coffee tasted familiar!"

"Marty?" TC said, a little confused. "But . . . . . you . . . . hold it here. I thought this Marty Manning you mentioned was a guy!"

"Oh, people called me Marty all the time back then," Martha said. "I dropped it after graduation, though."

"And since when were you Chuck?" TC asked, turning to Officer Dibble. "I thought you preferred Charlie."

"Oh, only Marty ever called me Chuck," Officer Dibble said. "We go way back. We used to date in high school. So . . . . Martha Collins, huh? Let me guess. You and ol' Georgy Collins got married, huh? The queen of home economics and the starving artist."

"You got it," Martha said. "But George has done well. He works for Broadway Advertising."

"This is a lot to take in here," TC said. "Dibble knows Mrs. C. Mrs. C and Dibble used to date. Dibble also knows Martha's husband. What's next? Your wife and her husband dated each other, too?"

"How'd you know?" Officer Dibble asked. "We'd go on double dates all the time. George Collins was my best friend growing up."

"Shee . . . . ." TC sighed. "Hey, Jerry . . . . can I have a refill? Make it a double. I think I need it!"

Martha just laughed, and poured TC another cup of coffee. The other five cats returned, looking dejected.

"No luck on the sandwich board campaign, huh?" TC asked.

"Like, no kiddin', TC," Spook said. "Bustsville, man."

"Nobody even looked at the signs," Choo-Choo said.

"Okay," TC said. "Then we'll just have to try something different."

"It had better not involve anything illegal, Top Cat," Officer Dibble warned.

"Why, Officer Dibble, would I do anything against the law?" TC asked, sweetly. "On second thought, don't answer that."

And with that, Officer Dibble rolled his eyes, and left. The cats sat down at the counter to think.

"I've got it," TC said. "I know what we can do."

"What, TC?" Benny asked.

"Just leave everything to me," as all TC said.


	4. All's Fair in Love and Coffee

The next day, TC was walking down the street carrying a notebook. He walked over to a line of people waiting outside of Apollo's.

"Pardon me, friend," he said, approaching a man in a suit. "I'm taking a survey, and I was wondering if I could borrow a few minutes of your time."

"Yeah, why not?" the man said. "I'm late for work already waiting to get into Apollo's."

"First of all, are you a coffee drinker?" TC asked.

"Well, whattaya think I'm waiting in line for? A guided tour of the Statue of Liberty?"

"How many cups of coffee do you drink per day, sir?"

"Only one. I come to Apollo's to get it 'cause Schultz's Delicatessen coffee tastes like mud."

"And do you come to Apollo's every day for coffee, sir?"

"Yeah, unfortunately."

"Why is it unfortunate?"

"Are you kidding? Four bucks for a cup of coffee? It's ridiculous!"

"Then why do you keep coming here?"

"It's better than a cup of mud at Schultz's."

"Do all of you feel that way?" TC asked the crowd. A lot of the patrons in line nodded.

"But they charge so much because it's gourmet," a woman said.

"Just because it's gourmet doesn't mean it's any good," TC said. "Listen folks, I know a place where you can get yourselves a good cup of coffee for only five cents! Ten cents for a large, and a dozen doughnuts for twenty-five cents! Just follow me!"

TC led a group of the customers waiting in line to Martha's little basement coffee shop. Some of the people were a bit turned off at the dim lights.

"Must be one of them there beatnik places," one man said.

"Don't knock it 'till you've tried it," Spook said, coming over. "Like, it may look like a beatnik hangout, but the coffee really swings, dig?"

"All right," the man said.

"You heard him, Martha!" TC shouted. "Let's perk up those percolators!"

Within minutes, the percolators were, well, percolating. TC grabbed some empty milk bottles he brought with him to the coffee house, and filled them each with a different amount of water. Then he tapped the bottles with a couple of spoons.

"Like, wild xylophone, TC," Spook said.

"Thank you, Spook," TC said. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, for you entertainment, presenting . . . . . me."

TC then began tapping out the song "Percolator (Twist)" on his makeshift xylophone, while Choo-Choo strummed a makeshift guitar, using a baking pan and rubber bands. Fancy was banging a couple of wooden spoons on some pots and pans to emulate drums. Their music was being heard outside, and people were walking in to see what in the world this was. TC finished up his act, and took a bow as the people in the coffee house began applauding.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he said. "And now for an encore, presenting Beethoven's fifth."

TC then began tapping out Beethoven's fifth symphony on his "xylophone." A lot of people got a good chuckle out of TC's act, and bought some coffee from Martha while they were at it. For the next few days, people were coming in and buying Martha's coffee, and listening to TC's "Junk Band." Everyone loved TC's little band.

Almost.

The one person who disliked TC's band was Beebee Beatnik. He was cutting in to her stage time and her poetry. One day, Beebee was on stage, reciting one of her poems.

"Like, dig," she said, snapping her fingers. "There was this, like, really teeny weeny bug. Like legs, man, legs all over the place."

"Oh brother," TC groaned.

"And like this bug, this long legged, eight legged critter," Beebee went on. "He, like, went and climbed this, like, H-two-O drain, like spout like thing. Yeah. Then, like the rain comes down and this square bug is, like, washed up, like, way outta site, man."

"That bug's not the only thing washed up around here," TC said. "Beebee, don't take this personal like or anything, but your poetry . . . . . . it stinks."

"Oh, what do you know about art?!" Beebee yelled, and she grabbed one of TC's bottles (the one that was almost completely full), and hit the yellow cat over the head with it, causing the bottle to break, and water to gush all over TC.

"Eeeeccchhhh," TC grimaced.

"And it's obvious you don't need me around here, either, Mrs. C," Beebee said, dropping the beatnik thing all together. "I quit!"

And with that, Beebee stormed out in a huff.

"Sheesh, what's her problem?" TC asked.

"I don't know," Martha shrugged. "I don't think I'll ever understand Beebee. Well, Jerry, looks like you're pulling double duty during the morning shifts again."

"Whoopee," Jerry said, sarcastically.

"Come again?" TC asked.

"Oh, it's nothing, really," Jerry shrugged. "Not only was Beebee our resident beat chick . . . . uhh, beat cat, but she also waited tables and wiped them down."

"But I thought Reine did that," Benny said.

"She does," Martha said. "But only during the afternoons. She's still in school, you know. She won't graduate until next year. So now we'll be a bit shorthanded."

"Not necessarily," TC said. "I have here five of the best waiters in the entire city."

"Duh, where, TC?" Brain asked.

"You guys, of course," TC said. "Martha, I'll make you a deal. We'll be your waitstaff as well as your entertainment, and advertising consultants."

"I don't know, Top Cat," Martha said. "Even if business picks up, I don't think I can afford to hire any . . . . ."

"You can pay our wages in all the coffee we can drink," TC said.

"Fine with me," Martha said. "As long as you guys promise not to drink me out of business!"

"Deal," TC said, and he and Martha shook on it.

Later that afternoon, when Martha's kids were hanging out at the coffee shop after school, who should happen to come in but Mr. Starbuck? Martha groaned.

"Think you're pretty smart, dontcha?" he asked. "Stealing my customers!"

"All's fair in love and coffee, buster," TC commented.

"Enjoy it while you can, Mrs. Collins," Mr. Starbuck said, ignored TC for the moment. "It won't last. You'd better think about selling your place to me."

"But if Mommy sells her store, she won't have a job," Courtney said.

"Well, we wouldn't want that, now would we?" Mr. Starbuck asked, pinching the five-year-old's cheek. "Why, your mommy would come to work for me, of course!"

"That'd be a fate worse than death!" Calvin shouted.

"Shhh!" Reine hissed, covering her younger brother's mouth with her hand.

"Just you think about it, Mrs. Collins," Mr. Starbuck said. "You'll see that I'm right."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Starbuck," Martha said. "But I am _not_ selling my shop. Now if you would kindly leave . . . ."

Mr. Starbuck didn't say anything, and he left. TC watched him go, and groaned.

"Sheesh, give a guy a million dollar corporation, and he thinks he owns the world!" TC shouted.

A couple of days went by, and business did indeed pick up, mostly by word of mouth. TC would bring people from Apollo's lines into Martha's, and then they'd tell friends and co-workers about it. It would appear that TC had succeeded.

Unfortunately, it was all about to change. One morning, a customer came up to the front counter.

"Gimme a large Espresso Express Caramel Latte Mochaccino," he said.

"Duh, gesundheit," Brain replied, walking past on his way to a table.

"I think you're thinking of Apollo's," Jerry said.

"Oh," the customer said. "Well, what kind of coffee do you have here?"

"Kona coffee," TC answered. "Ground fresh daily."

"That's it?" the customer asked, a little surprised. "Just one kinda coffee? What kinda coffee joint is this?! Come on, everybody! Let's get outta here!"

"Hey, wait a minute!" Choo-Choo shouted. "This place has lower prices than Apollo's!"

"Apollo's might be more expensive," a woman said, haughtily. "But at least _they_ have a little more variety!"

And with that sour note, a good chunk of the customers walked out without buying a thing.

"Like, I get the feeling Starbuck set us up," Spook commented.

"Yeah, what a dirty trick," TC grumbled. "That rotten cheater, he's not playing fair."

"But, TC, you said all was fair in love and coffee," Benny pointed out.

"Shut up while I'm thinking, Benny," TC said. "We've got to switch gears. We've got to come up with some more variety here."


	5. Grinding Ideas

TC was back in the alley sitting in his trash can thinking about what to do, when Officer Dibble walked by the check in.

"Well, here's a new one," he said. "You're _not_ on my phone!"

"I know, Dib, I know," TC said. "I'm trying to think of a way to get the customers back to Martha's."

"I thought you had some in there already."

"We did, but then some schnook yelled for the whole place to hear that Martha's didn't have any variety. I demand you go over there and arrest that Starbuck person!"

"I can't do that, TC. He hasn't done anything illegal."

"Couldn't you bust him on double parking or jaywalking or something?"

"It's not the way it works, TC. I can't arrest a person just on the grounds I don't like them. If that were the case, I'd have busted you a long time ago."

"Cute, Dib. Very cute."

The next day, the cats were over at Martha's Coffee Shoppe, trying to think of something they could do, when Calvin came running into the kitchen, carrying a crate. Courtney was right behind him.

"Mommy! Mommy!" she called.

"Your mommy's not here, kid," TC said. "She stepped out for a minute."

"Like, what's in the box, Cal?" Spook asked.

"My sister sent us something from Morocco," Calvin said.

"Duh, when did Reine have a chance to go to Morocco?" Brain asked.

"Not Reine, silly!" Courtney said, giggling. "Sue!"

"Sue who?" Benny asked. Courtney exploded into giggles after that one.

"Our oldest sister," Calvin explained. "She's eighteen, and studying in Morocco this term."

"Well, let's open her up and see what we got," TC said.

"But Calvin said it's got Mommy's name on it," Courtney said. "And we shouldn't open a box that doesn't have our name on it."

"Come on, Court!" Calvin groaned. "I'm dying to see what's in it!"

"Now what are you two arguing about?" Martha asked, as she and Reine came into the coffee house.

"Mommy, Sue sent you a present!" Courtney shouted. "Open it, open, it, open it!"

"Reine, go get me the crowbar and a hammer," Martha said.

"Okay, Mom," Reine said, and she ran off.

"What's a nice lady like you doing with a crow bar in her coffee shop?" TC asked.

"Don't you remember?" Martha asked. "My brother-in-law owns a coffee plantation on Kona, and he ships me the beans in crates like this."

"Yeah, TC, how'd you think we got them?" Calvin asked. "An envelope?"

TC didn't answer. He just watched as Reine returned with the crow bar and hammer. Martha used them to pry the crate open and inside were coffee beans, and a piece of paper.

"Dear Mom," Martha said, taking the paper and reading it. "I know you get beans from Uncle Kye and Aunt Celia, but I thought you'd like to try something different for a change. I got a part time job at a cafe in Casablanca, and I told them about your shop. So here are some Moroccan coffee beans. Enjoy. Say hi to Dad, Reine, Calvin, and Courtney for me! Love always, Sue."

"Sue must be a mind reader," TC commented.

"Yeah, but we're still in a pickle here," Reine said. "We're still no match for Apollo's with only two types."

"Like, hold it," Spook said, eyeing a shelf. "I just had me a brain storm."

"What's that, Spook?" TC asked.

"Hershey's," was all Spook said, and he raced off to find a ladder or a step stool, or something along those lines.

"Hershey's?" Choo-Choo asked. "What's he talking about?"

"Beats me," TC shrugged.

Spook returned with a small step ladder, and climbed up to the shelf. He took down a can of Hershey's cocoa, and brought it over to the counter. Then, he took Martha's coffee grinder, and stuck some of the Kona coffee beans into it. Then he began grinding. Once they were ground, he mixed in the Hershey's cocoa.

"Anyone for mocha?" he asked.

"I don't know, Spook," Choo-Choo said. "I don't think that's gonna help much."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Reine said, suddenly. "I think Spook's onto something. Let's try this with the beans Sue sent us."

"Like, I dig," Spook said, and he put the Moroccan beans into the grinder. Once they were grounded, he mixed in the cocoa, and put it in the percolator. Once it was percolated, Spook poured a cup.

"Like, try it, TC," he said.

"What have we got to lose?" TC asked. He took the cup, and took a sip of the coffee. Then, he contemplated the taste for a moment, and gulped the rest of the cup down in one swoop.

"Well?" Benny asked.

"We have a winner!" TC shouted. "It's like your standard mocha, but the Moroccan beans give it a little . . . . _kick_. I like it."

"Yay!" Courtney cheered.

"What do we call it, TC?" Choo-Choo asked.

"How about Moroccan Mocha?" Spook suggested.

"Nah, that's a terrible idea," TC said. "Hmmm. Let me think. I got it! We'll call it Moroccan Mocha."

"You've done it again, TC," Choo-Choo said, rolling his eyes.

"Isn't that what Spook just called it?" Calvin asked.

"TC does this sort of thing all the time," Choo-Choo explained. "We're used to him claiming our ideas as his."

"Yeah, kiddo, it's, like, just the way he is, you know?" Spook said.

"Okay," Reine said. "So we've got Kona coffee, we've got Moroccan coffee, and we've got Moroccan Mocha. But I don't think that's gonna cut it."

"Hmmmm . . . . ." TC said, thinking it over.

"Hey, I've got an idea!" Choo-Choo shouted. "Why don't we blend the Kona coffee with the Moroccan coffee?"

"Excellent suggestion," TC said. "I'm glad I thought of it."

"But you didn't think of it, Mr. Top Cat," Courtney said. "Mr. Choo-Choo did."

"I love this kid, she's so cute!" TC laughed.

TC then put both kinds of beans into Martha's grinder, and mixed. Once he percolated it, he tasted it, and thought about it.

"It needs something . . . . ." he said. "But I don't know what . . . ."

"Duhhh, what about milk?" Brain suggested. "I'll get it."

Brain went to get the milk, but he ended up bumping the cocoa tin, and knocking it over. Some of it spilled into TC's coffee.

"Brain, watch it!" TC shouted. "Now look what you did!"

"Gee, I'm sorry, TC," Brain said. "Did I ruin your coffee?"

TC took a sip of his coffee, and contemplated the taste. Then he went to get the milk Brain had suggested, and poured it in. He took another sip.

"Ah ha!" he shouted. "I've got it now! It's perfect! We'll call it Kahuna Coffee."

"Why Kahuna Coffee, TC?" Benny asked.

"It sounds catchy," TC said. "Okay men. Let's get to work spreading the word about Martha's Coffee Shoppe, and her brand new flavors! Blur, fellows, blur! Let's move, move, move!"

And with that, the cats raced out of the kitchen and got to work advertising again.

"You think they can pull it off, Top Cat?" Reine asked.

"No reason why they shouldn't," TC said.

"Reine, I'm thirsty," Courtney said, tugging on her big sister's skirt. "Will you make me hot chocolate please?"

"Okay," Reine said.

"You use a powdered mix?" TC asked.

"Nope," Reine said. "I use Mom's recipe."

"Pour me a cup while you're at it, Reine," TC said. "I want to see what this tastes like."

Reine nodded, and began mixing things up, but she wouldn't let TC see what she was doing, or how she was doing it.

"Come on, Reine!" TC shouted. "Let me see what you're doing!"

"I can't," Reine said.

"Mommy says it's a secret recipe, Mr. Top Cat," Courtney said. "Only we're allowed to know how she makes it."

TC nodded, and then he waited. After a few minutes, Reine poured him and Courtney cups of hot chocolate, and topped them with marshmallows.

"Thank you, Reine," Courtney said.

TC took a sip, and then, licked his lips, and chugged the rest of it down.

"Now _this_ is hot chocolate!" he shouted. "Why don't you sell it here? If you put this on the menu, people would come running!"

"Well, Mom's kind of attached to the recipe," Reine said. "You'd have to ask her."

"I think I'll speak to your mom right now."

As that was going on, Spook was walking down Broadway wearing his sandwich board, modified to advertise the new items. As he was walking, he bumped into somebody, and both of them crashed to the ground.

"Ooof!" he shouted. "Hey, like, sorry about that. I didn't see you."

"Crazy," a familiar voice said. Spook looked up and saw that he had just crashed into Beebee Beatnik.

"Oh, errr, hi," Spook said.

"Yeah," Beebee said. "You're one of that square cat's pals, aren't you?"

"Yeah, uhhh . . . . . look, don't take what TC said about your poetry personally. I mean, like, he's my pal and all, and I'm, like, completely loyal to him, but he just doesn't jive, you know? I mean, like, I dig your poetry. I dig how deep it is."

"You sound like you swing."

"Dig. How 'bout I, like, buy you a cup of one of our new coffees?"

"New coffees?"

"Yeah, like, we're trying to save Mrs. Collins's place."

"I don't know . . . . . uhhh . . . . . uhhhh . . . . ."

"Oh, Spook. Like, my name's Spook."

"Spook. Wild, man. I don't know if I can show up at Martha's, after what I said . . . ."

"Hey, like, don't worry about it. Come on. I'll treat you to a cup of Moroccan Mocha."

"Crazy."

Spook and Beebee began walking back to Martha's Coffee Shoppe, and it looked like this was the start of a beautiful friendship between Spook and Beebee.


	6. Commercial Capers

TC was sitting at the counter, talking to Martha about her hot chocolate, when Spook and Beebee came in.

"Like, hiya, TC, baby," Spook said. "What's happenin'?"

"What'd you bring her back for?" TC asked, giving Beebee a look. "I thought she quit."

"Yeah, like, I know, man, but I bumped into her on the street, and I said I'd buy her a Moroccan Mocha," Spook said.

"As long as she doesn't recite anymore of that gosh awful poetry of hers," TC said.

"You are so not with it," Beebee replied, climbing up onto a stool.

"Okay, okay, knock it off, you guys," Martha said, to restore order. "I hear enough fighting every day coming from my kids."

Martha went to the kitchen to mix up the Moroccan Mocha. As they sat there, the rest of the cats came in, followed by a group of people who saw their sandwich boards and came in to try some of the new flavors. Fancy, Brain, Benny, and Choo-Choo ran into the kitchen to help make the coffee and serve the customers.

"Looks like business is picking up," Jerry commented, coming out of the kitchen.

"Yeah, but it's not good enough," TC said. "We need to figure out how to outdo Apollo's. We need more items on the menu. Unfortunately, I can't think of anything. We need some more varietal beans."

"I've got a pal named Pedro in South America," Jerry said. "He works on a plantation."

"Where in South America?" TC asked.

"Columbia. Let me give him a buzz, and see if we can get him to send us some Columbian beans."

"Hey, TC!" Fancy shouted, as Jerry went over to the phone. "I know how we can get our hands on some espresso beans! Let me talk to Judy."

"Another one of your girlfriends?" TC asked.

"Yeah," Fancy said. "I'll be right back!"

And with that, Fancy took off running out of the coffee shop. As he was leaving, who should walk in but Officer Dibble?

"I don't know how you do it, TC, but you do it," he said.

"Yeah, I do it all right," TC said. "How 'bout a cup of Kahuna, Dib? On the house?"

"No, thanks, TC," Officer Dibble said. "I'll stick to the regular."

"Hi, Chuck," Martha said, coming out of the kitchen with Spook and Beebee's Moroccan Mocha. "What brings you down here?"

"Just checking in on business, Marty," Officer Dibble said. "That, and I saw Benny down on thirty-third wearing that sandwich board of his. I wanted to check out your new stuff."

"How about trying some, Dib?" TC asked.

"No, I'll just stick to a regular cup of joe," Officer Dibble replied.

"We gotta think of a new name for our standard cup," Jerry commented, as he went into the kitchen.

"So, like, what do you think of the Moroccan Mocha?" Spook asked Beebee.

"Wild," Beebee said. "Like, I dig it."

"Great," Spook said. "But we still need some more stuff that'll really pack 'em in. Like, we're trying to drive Apollo's out of town."

"Yeah, prices there are crazy," Beebee commented. "They're even more square than your yellow pal."

"Hardy har har," TC said, sarcastically.

"You have any ideas?" Spook asked Beebee.

"Wait 'til you get some espresso," Beebee said. Then she took a napkin and a pen and scribbled something on it. Then she handed it to Spook. "Call when it comes in, Spook."

"Like, you got it," Spook said, taking the napkin. On it was Beebee's phone number. After she gave him the napkin, she left.

"Looks like Cupid strikes another one," TC said.

"Oh come on, TC," Spook said. "We're just . . . . you know, like acquaintances, you know?"

"Yeah, sure Spook, sure," Choo-Choo said, knowingly.

The next morning, Fancy came into the shop with the espresso beans, and Spook called Beebee. She came over and went into the kitchen with the cats.

"Okay, dig," she said. She then took some of the Kona beans, then some of the Moroccan beans, and finally added the espresso into the coffee grinder. Once they were grounded, she put them into the percolator, and waited. Once it was percolated, she poured the cats a cup.

"Try it," she said.

TC sniffed it, and took a sip. Then he suddenly stiffened.

_BOING!_

His fur began standing on end and his whiskers started twitching a bit.

"TC?" Benny asked. "Are you okay?"

"I feel like I wanna run the marathon," TC commented. "This stuff's full of get up and go! Perfect!"

"Yeah, I figure the business squares would get a kick out of it," Beebee said. "You know, keep 'em awake while pushing papers for eight hours. It's the espresso that does it."

"Yeah, let's call it Jolt," TC said.

"No, I don't think so," Spook said. "Like, I say we call it Hep Cat."

"What?" TC asked. "Hep Cat? Why?"

"Because, like, it was invented by a hep cat," Spook said.

"All right, I'll be diplomatic," TC said. "Anyone who wants to call it Jolt, raise their hands."

TC raised his hand, and so did Brain.

"Anyone for Hep Cat Blend?" TC asked.

Spook, Fancy, Choo-Choo, Benny, and Beebee raised their hands. As TC was tallying up the votes, Martha, Reine, Calvin, Courtney, and Jerry came into the kitchen.

"What's up?" Jerry asked. "Other than your hands, that is."

"Beebee came up with a coffee blend," Benny said. "We're voting on the name of it."

"Yeah," Choo-Choo said. "TC wants to call it Jolt, but Spook suggested Hep Cat Blend, 'cause a hep cat came up with the idea."

"What do you guys think?" TC asked.

"Hep Cat," Martha, Reine, Jerry, Calvin, and Courtney said in unison.

TC was outvoted ten to two, so he grudgingly agreed to call it Hep Cat Blend, and he went to make some sandwich boards for the other cats to promote it. Reine had been inspired by this, and she got out her sketchbook. She sketched a black cat sitting next to a cup of steaming coffee, both done in art deco style.

"Hey," Benny said, looking over her shoulder. "That's great, Reine!"

"Thanks," Reine said. "I love to sketch and doodle when I get a chance."

Benny then began flipping through Reine's sketch book. There was a sketch of the coffee house, showing people sitting at the counter and drinking coffee and people at tables. There were portraits of her mother and her brother and sister, as well as her own versions of advertisements. There was a sketch featuring Tony the Tiger in front of a bowl of Frosted Flakes with him saying "They're grrrrreeeeaaaat!" Another ad featured the Trix Rabbit and a sketch of Calvin and a girl with pigtails. Calvin was holding a bowl and the girl was holding a net over the rabbit. Across the bottom was "Silly Rabbit, Trix Are for Kids."

"So that's Calvin," Benny said. "And is that you?"

"No, actually, that's one of Calvin's friends," Reine said.

Benny continued flipping through the book. Another sketch showed the Cheerios Kid flexing his muscle. Another had Snap, Crackle, and Pop, the Rice Krispies elves.

"Wow, these are really good!" Benny commented. "You're really talented, Reine!"

"Thanks, Benny," Reine said. "I love drawing advertisements. And I love watching television commercials. I like them better than the shows!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah! I'm a commercial nut. I guess that's because my dad writes commercials. I can't wait until I graduate high school. I'm going to apply to every art school I can. That way, I'll at least be accepted to one. And I'm going to go into advertising, just like my dad."

"Hey, TC!" Benny shouted as TC came into the room. "Look at Reine's sketchbook!"

"What is it, Benny?" TC asked, climbing up onto a stool to get a look. He saw Reine's art deco cat and coffee cup.

"Not bad," he said. "Not bad at all."

TC then began flipping through the sketchbook.

"Hey, these are pretty good," he said. "Hey, Benny, look, Tony the Tiger! Did you trace that, Reine?"

"No, I drew it by hand," Reine said.

"Look, TC! It's Fred Flintstone!" Benny shouted, turning to another page in her sketchbook. "And Bugs Bunny, and Mickey Mouse!"

"Reine, sweetie, you have been hiding your talent under a waitress uniform!" TC shouted. "Why didn't you tell us you could draw?"

"Oh, it's not a big deal," Reine shrugged. "I do it for fun. It's also good practice for when I graduate from college. I'm going to be an advertising executive like my dad."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," TC said. "I'm getting a brain storm. Especially with the Hep Cat sketch."

"What's the idea, TC?" Benny asked.

"We are gonna put an ad in the paper, and we are gonna use Reine's sketch on our sandwich boards!" TC shouted.

"Great idea!" Reine shouted. "I'll go talk to Mom! She'll give us the money for an ad! Since business is picking up, we can afford it."

"Let's get moving!" TC shouted.

Two days later, Reine's ad for Hep Cat Blend made it into the newspaper. Many people who bought the daily paper stopped in when they saw the ad. But commuters weren't the only ones seeing the newspaper ad. J. P. Starbuck happened across it one day while reading the newspaper.

"Of all the . . . . ." he grumbled. "Just who does this woman think she is? Doesn't she know she can't compete against my place?!"

"But boss," Eddie, the cashier TC had run into upon his visit to Apollo's, said. "Their prices are a lot cheaper, and they're coming out with more variety of flavors. I think, if we want to compete, we should lower our prices."

"When I want your opinion, Edward, I'll give it to you," Mr. Starbuck said. "We've got to think of something, and fast."

Mr. Starbuck thought it over, and then suddenly snapped his fingers.

"I've got it!" he shouted. "Where's the phone book?"

As Mr. Starbuck searched through the phone book, Martha and her kids headed home, followed by Top Cat and his gang. Martha invited them over for a good, old fashioned home cooked meal, to thank them for what they were doing for the coffee house.

"You wouldn't believe how many people commented on the ad," Martha said. "Reine, I am so proud of you!"

"Thanks, Mom," Reine said. "But it was really Top Cat's idea."

"Yeah, but you did the drawing," Calvin said.

"Top Cat, you constantly amaze me," Martha said.

"I know," TC said. "Anything for a good cup of coffee."

"Well, I'd better get dinner started," Martha said. "You cats just make yourselves at home. Reine, could you and Calvin set the table, please?"

"Okay, Mom," Calvin said.

After awhile, Martha's husband, George, came into the house.

"I'm home!" he shouted.

"Daddy!" Courtney shouted, happily launching herself into her father's arms. George swept his youngest daughter up, threw her into the air, caught her, and gave her a big kiss.

"Hiya, punkin," he said.

"Daddy, did you see Reine's picture in the paper today?" Courtney asked. "She drew a picture for Mommy's new coffee, and Mr. Top Cat put it in the paper!"

"Yeah, I saw it," George said, putting Courtney down. "That was a great idea, Reine."

"Thanks, Dad," Reine said.

"Hi, honey," Martha said, coming into the living room. "I'd like you to meet some dinner guests. They're helping me down at the coffee shop. These are Top Cat, Benny, Choo-Choo, Fancy, Spook, and Brain."

"How do you do, Mr. Collins?" TC said, shaking George's hand. "Nice little set up your wife has. Not to mention the best coffee in the city."

"Thank you, Mr. Top Cat," George said.

"So how was your day at the office, dear?" Martha asked.

"It was big," George said, excitedly. "We got a new client today. And this new client could mean the start of something _big_!"

"Really?" Martha asked.

"By big, does that mean more money?" Calvin asked.

"It certainly does," George said. "And here's the best news of it all. My boss, Mr. Wilson, put me in charge of the whole campaign."

"Wow!" Courtney shouted.

"Dad, that's great!" Reine shouted.

"Way to go, Dad!" Calvin shouted.

"Honey, that's fantastic!" Martha said. "Who's the new client?"

"J. P. Starbuck," George said. "The owner of Apollo's Coffee."


	7. Full of Beans

The next day, TC was at Martha's Coffee Shoppe, trying to think. Business was booming, but he still thought it could be better.

"That rotten Starbuck," he said. "Can you imagine using Martha's own husband against her?!"

"Yeah, that's sneaky," Choo-Choo agreed. "But Mr. and Mrs. Collins can't really do anything about it, TC."

"He's right," Reine said. "If Dad refuses to work on the Apollo's account, Mr. Starbuck could drop his company from Broadway Advertisers, and if they lose Apollo's, Dad could lose his job. And if Dad loses his job, our family is in _big_ trouble!"

"With a family like ours, Top Cat, we need all the money we can get," Calvin explained. "Mom only started working so we could make ends meet."

"I thought advertising made lots of money," Benny said.

"It all depends on the clients, and if the products sell," Reine said. "I don't know how the business works, so I don't know how much money Dad makes per year."

"But with a wife and four kids to feed . . . ." Calvin said. "Well, three kids, since Sue's moved out . . . . . you get the idea. You add that to Reine graduating high school and going to college in two years, me graduating high school in seven more years, and Courtney in thirteen more years . . . ."

"Yeah, Cal, we get the idea," TC said.

"Look on the bright side, TC," Benny said. "We're about even with Apollo's, customer wise."

"Yeah, but it's just not good enough!" TC shouted. "We've got to come up with something and we've got to come up with something _now_!"

"Hey cats!" Jerry called out, carrying a large crate into the coffee house. "Guess what!"

"The world opened up and swallowed J.P. Starbuck and his coffee chain?" TC asked, hopefully.

"Unfortunately, no," Jerry said. "My friend, Pedro, sent us some Columbian coffee beans."

"Great!" Fancy shouted. "Let's get those creative juices flowing!"

"Hi, gang," Beebee said, walking into the shop carrying loaded shopping bags. "I've got some surprises for you!"

"Like, lay it on us, Beeb," Spook said.

"Okay," Beebee said, and she began taking things out of the bags. "I got you some hazelnut extract, some vanilla extract, some peppermint extract, some cinnamon, some honey, and some ginger."

"Like, wildsville, Beebee!" Spook shouted. "Let's get cookin', cats!"

The group went into the kitchen, and began their creative processing, using the Columbian beans. Choo-Choo was the first to come up with a winner.

"Taste this, TC," he said. "I used the Columbian beans, some milk, and the hazelnut extract."

"Hmmm," TC said, after taking a sip. "Smooth, subtle, with just a hint of nuttiness. Good work, Chooch. Write this one down as Hazelnut Coffee, Reine."

"Right, TC," Reine said, making a note of it.

"Okay, Fancy," TC said. "Let's see what you've come up with."

"This is a mix of Kona, Moroccan, and Columbian beans with sugar, cream, honey, and ginger, TC," Fancy said, pushing his cup to his leader. "I call it Honey Ginger Blend."

"And I call it a winner," TC said.

"Like, here's mine, TC," Spook said. "I used vanilla, mint, Kona, and Columbian."

"Hmmm," TC said, thoughtfully. "Not bad, Spook, not bad."

"Tastes kind of like toothpaste to me," Jerry commented, after he took a sip.

"Add some cream and sugar to that, and you'll have a winner, Spook," TC said. "What have you got, Brain?"

"Duh, I didn't use any coffee, TC," Brain said. "I wanted to try something different, like a hot chocolate recipe. So I used the cocoa, and some stuff I found in the kitchen."

"What is this?" TC asked, looking at the cup.

"Duh, I call it a Cup of Mud," Brain said. "Because it looks like mud."

"It sure does," Calvin said.

"Well, down the hatch," TC said, tasting Brain's Cup of Mud. To his surprise, it was pretty good. "Hmm. A little too thick for hot chocolate. Actually, it tastes like thinned down hot chocolate pudding. Kids'll love it. Good thinking, Brain. I can't believe I just said that. Okay, who's next?"

"Here's mine, TC," Benny said. "I didn't use any coffee, either. I used the Hershey's cocoa, a lot of milk, a little cream, and a lot of peppermint extract."

"Not bad at all, Benny," TC said, licking his lips. "It's cool, refreshing . . . . . and it tastes kind of like a chocolate mint candy cane."

"It reminds me of Christmastime," Reine said, taking a sip.

"Benny, you little dickens!" TC shouted. "What a great idea! We'll save our special Peppermint Blend for December. It's perfect for the Christmas season!"

"Gee, thanks, TC," Benny said. "I'm gonna go write a letter to my mother and tell her all about our coffee inventions!"

"Spook and I will get to work on the sandwich boards," Choo-Choo said.

"And Brain and I will go wait on the customers," Fancy said, and he and brain got to work.

A couple of days went by. Business was the same as usual. Half of the city was still going to Apollo's, but the other half was coming into Martha's. As TC and Benny were brewing a batch of Hep Cat Blend, a knock came at the back door. Benny went to answer it.

"Package for Mr. Benjamin B. Ball," a delivery man said, pushing a large wooden crate into the kitchen.

"That's me," Benny said. "How much do I owe you?"

"It's already paid for," the delivery man said, holding out a clipboard to Benny. "Just sign here, Mac."

Benny signed the receipt, and looked at the crate. Then he smiled.

"Oh boy!" he shouted. "Hey Chooch! Fancy! Everybody! Come into the kitchen! I've got a big surprise!"

"Is it in that crate?" TC asked.

"Yeah! It's from Arnaz!"

"Arnaz? Who in the world is Arnaz?"

"Arnaz Dez. He's my pen pal in Cuba. Not only did I write to Ma about the coffee house, I also wrote to Arnaz, who's a big coffee fanatic."

Martha went to get her crowbar, and she pried open the crate. Inside were coffee beans, and a letter.

"Buenos dias, Benny," Reine said, opening the letter. "All your coffee creations sound muy bueno, but I am hurt that you are not using Cuban coffee. Don't you know that Cuban beans make the finest coffee in the world? But, maybe you do not have access to Cuban coffee beans. So, I've sent you this large crate full of them. Happy creating! Your amigo, Arnaz."

"Wow, like, that's really something, Benny!" Spook shouted.

"Yeah, now we've got five kinds of beans to work with!" Benny shouted.

The cats then grabbed handfuls of Cuban beans and got to work with the grinders and the percolators. TC went into the restaurant to check on the customers. He found Officer Dibble at the counter.

"Hiya, Top Cat," he said. "I gotta tell you, it's weird having you work for a change."

"I know, crazy isn't it?" TC asked. "So what brings you here, other than your standard cup of joe?"

"I thought I'd give you a little something."

"What's that, Dib? A citation for getting hair in the coffee?"

"Very funny. Here."

Officer Dibble put a bag on the table, an TC opened it. Inside were more coffee beans.

"Thanks, Dib, but we don't really need beans here," TC said. "I think we've got plenty. We just got a shipment of Cuban beans a minute ago."

"Not these, TC," Officer Dibble said. "These are Balinese coffee beans."

"Bali-who?"

"Balinese. You know. Bali's an island in Indonesia. A friend of mine went there on vacation, and he brought back some coffee beans. I thought maybe they could help Marty's business."

"What can I say, Dib? You're all heart."

And with that, TC ran into the kitchen and began grinding.

"What's that, TC?" Benny asked.

"Bali beans," TC said. "Dib brought them in. He said a friend of his went to Indonesia, and brought back some beans."

"Hey, wildsville, dad!" Spook shouted. "Like, java from Java!"

"Java from Java," TC repeated. "Catchy, Spook. I like that. Very catchy."

TC added "Java from Java" to the menu. Then, he began planning something huge.

"Okay, which of you girls can sing?" TC asked.

"Like, don't look at me, man," Beebee said. "I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Every time I try, the dogs in the neighborhood go nutso."

"That bad, huh?" TC asked.

"Like, howlsville," Beebee said.

"I'm not that good a singer, either, Top Cat," Martha said. "If you want a singer, look at Calvin."

"Calvin's no good," TC said. "I mean, I'm not saying that you're no good singing, Calvin, you understand, I just need a female partner."

"I'll do it," Reine said. "I'm no Ella Fitzgerald, but I'll sing for you, Top Cat."

"Excellent, excellent," TC said. "Now then, I'm gonna need a few things. Spook, go get me a conga drum. Chooch, you and Fancy go find some horns. Brain, get me some maracas. Benny, I'm gonna need two outfits. Find me a white coat and tails, and one of those South American shirts."

"South American shirts?" Benny asked, confused.

"Yeah, you know the kind. Those shirts with the big, puffy, Froot Loop sleeves."

"Oh."

"Now, let's hop to it. Blur, men, blur! Let's move, move, move!"

The cats then raced out of the coffee shop as fast as they could.

"What do you need all that stuff for, anyway, Top Cat?" Calvin asked.

"A little special entertainment," TC said. "Can you play a guitar, Calvin?"

"Do fish swim?" Calvin asked.

"He sure can play guitar," Martha said. "He drives us all crazy with it."

"He thinks he's a rocking roller," Courtney replied.

"That's rock 'n roll," Calvin corrected. "Not rocking roll. And I _am_ gonna be a famous rock 'n roller one day!"

"I'd graduate from the sixth grade first, Cal," TC said. "Jerry-boy, I need you to go find yourself something that's gonna make you look like Sinatra."

"What for?" Jerry asked.

"Ol' Brown Eyes is back," TC said. "You may not croon like Ol' Blue Eyes, but I need all the entertainment I can get. And that includes your lousy poetry, Beebee."

"Philistine," Beebee muttered under her breath.

"It's gonna be a big blow out, people!" TC shouted, ignoring Beebee. "Big, big, big!"


	8. Rehearsals

Throughout the week, TC's gang was walking around town, wearing their sandwich boards, as usual, promoting the coffee house. The boards were advertising something TC had called "Fiesta Night," to be held a week from Saturday.

"I hope this Fiesta Night idea of yours works, Top Cat," Jerry said. "Even though I don't think a couple of your acts would count as fiesta."

"I know, but remember, Sinatra _has_ played the Copacabana," TC said. "Come on, Ol' Brown Eyes. You need to rehearse."

"What's the point, TC? I'll never be as good as Sinatra."

"Have a little confidence, Jerry-boy! The key word is confidence! What's the matter? Don't you want to be a famous singer? Don't you want to see your name in lights? I can see it now. Jerry Campanelli, Ol' Brown Eyes himself! Live at Radio City Music Hall! The idol of millions! They'll all be saying Ol' Brown Eyes croons better than Sinatra himself! They'll be asking you to join the Rat Pack. Think about it, Jerry-baby. Just think about it!"

"I_ am_ thinking about it. And the very thought of it makes me sick to my stomach!"

"Huh? _Why_?!"

"Top Cat, I _can't_ sing in front of an audience! When I was in high school, I had a little combo with three other guys, and we performed in our school's talent show. Or at least we tried do. The minute I walked out on stage, I got one look at the audience, and choked. I forgot the words to the song, and I sang way off key."

"Stage fright?"

"I've got the worst case of stage fright you can imagine. Every time I'm in front of an audience, I choke. I can't do it, TC."

And with that, Jerry walked into the kitchen. TC was a little dumbfounded.

"Now how do you like that?" he said to himself. "Ol' Brown Eyes suffers from stage fright. I wonder if these things ever happened to Sinatra?"

TC wasn't going to worry about Jerry. He had other things to do. The others had brought in what TC asked them to bring in. Brain was on the stage, shaking the maracas, and wearing a bunch of fruit on his head, a la Carmen Miranda.

(_if you don't know who she is, Look It Up, Dear_)

"Duh, la cucaracha, la cucaracha," he sang. "La, la, la, la, la, la, la. Duh, la cucaracha, la cucaracha. La, la, la, la, la, la, la!"

"Brain, _please_ don't sing _that_ in front of the customers!" TC shouted. "The last thing we need around here is a song about a cockroach!"

"Duh, I wasn't singing about a cockroach, TC," Brain said. "I was singing about a la cucaracha."

"Like, Brain baby, cucaracha is Spanish for cockroach," Spook explained. "The song, like, translates to the cockroach. It goes kinda like . . . . ."

Spook then took Brain's maracas and began shaking them, and he did a little cha-cha step to go with it.

"The cocka-roacha, the cocka-roacha," he sang. "See it running 'cross the floor. The cocka-roacha, the cocka-roacha, sends them racing out the door!"

"You got that right, Spook!" TC shouted.

"And, like, if you sing it," Spook went on, "then the customers might start thinking there _are_ la cucarachas around here."

"And then Mrs. Collins could get her place shut down by the health department," Fancy said. "And you wouldn't want that to happen to the nice lady, would you, Brain?"

"Duh, no, I guess not," Brain said. "I like Mrs. Collins. I don't want to make people think about cockroaches. Okay. I'll stop singing the cucaracha song."

"Good decision," TC said. "Oh yeah, one more thing."

"Duh, what's that, TC?" Brain asked.

"Lose the fruit salad hair do."

Brain shrugged, and took the fruit off his head. After awhile, TC got everyone together, for a rehearsal.

"Okay, everybody ready?" he asked.

"Like, all set, daddy-o," Spook said. "Kill the house lights, and we'll, like, get goin'."

"Okay, Reine, you heard the man!" TC shouted. "Kill the lights!"

Reine then turned off the house lights, and everything went black. The minute the lights were out, Courtney let out an ear shattering screech, right in Fancy's ear.

"Hey, Courtney," Fancy said. "If you lost your voice, you'll find it in my ear!"

"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" Courtney wailed, sounding panicked.

"I'm right here, sweetheart," Martha said, pulling her youngest daughter into her arms. "It's all right. It's okay. Mommy's got you. Reine, turn the lights back on, will you, please?"

"Sure, Mom," Reine said, and she turned the lights back on.

"Now what was _that_ all about?" TC asked, as he glanced at Courtney clinging to Martha like a barnacle on an ocean rock.

"I guess we should've warned you about that," Calvin said. "She's afraid of the dark."

"Monsters like the dark," Courtney whimpered. "They come out when there's no light."

"It drives me crazy," Reine said. "We share a bedroom, and she just _has_ to have a nightlight."

"Yeah, she thinks there are monsters under her bed, Reine's bed, and in their closet!" Calvin groaned. "She's such a baby!"

"It's normal for children to be afraid of the dark," Martha said. "You were afraid of the dark, too, Calvin, when you were Courtney's age."

"Come on, Mom!" Calvin groaned. "I asked you not to tell anyone that!"

"Nonetheless, you got over it, and so will Courtney when she gets older."

"Yeah, but we can't have her screaming like that next Saturday night," TC said. "Anybody got any ideas?"

"Maybe we should turn the spotlight on first before we kill the house lights, TC," Choo-Choo suggested.

"Good idea," TC said. "Okay, Benny, turn that on, and then, Reine, kill the lights. Let's see if we can get this show rehearsed!"

TC took charge of the rehearsals, only having the group rehearse when no customers were in (he didn't want to reveal anything until the next evening). While the group also practiced in the kitchen, they also began coming up with other recipes.

"Here's one for you, TC," Choo-Choo said. "I thought it'd be good for Thanksgiving. I call it Pumpkin Cinnamon Blend."

"Not bad," TC said, after taking a sip. "Not bad at all."

"Here's one for the morning people, Top Cat," Fancy said, sliding him a glass. "It's called Coming Up Roses. You know, sort of a reminder to stop and smell the coffee. Or the roses. Take your pick."

"There aren't _really_ roses in here, are there?" Reine asked.

"Oh no, of course not!" Fancy shouted. "You can't drink flowers!"

"Works for me," TC said. "All right, Benny-boy. What have you got for me?"

"I decided to do a little something different, TC," Benny said. "Another non-coffee drink. Except this isn't really a hot chocolate. But I don't think it came out right."

"Hey, like, I dig it," Spook said, after taking a sip.

"Yeah, this is really good," Choo-Choo said.

"Kind of reminds me of Creme Brulee," Martha commented. "I like it."

"Then that's what we'll call it," TC said, making a note of that. "Okay, Spook. You're up."

"Like, this has about as much get up and go as Hep Cat," he said. "I call it Jive Five Java."

"Jive Five Java?" Beebee asked.

"Like, yeah," Spook went on. "Dig this. It's got Kona, and Moroccan, and Columbian, and Cuban, and Bali beans."

"Well, it doesn't have the kick that Hep Cat has," TC said. "But I think it works. Jive Five Java is in. All right, Brain, let's see what you've got for us."

"Duh, Whipped Chocolate," Brain said. "What do you think, TC?"

"I think I should have someone's head examined," TC said. "He's done it again. He came up with another good idea!"

"That's a first for Brain," Choo-Choo replied.

Monday rolled around, and it rained. It was practically pouring down in buckets. And the unfortunate thing was it looked like it was going to be like this all week.

"Rain, rain, go away," Courtney chanted. "Don't come back another day."

"That's _not_ how the song goes, Courtney," Calvin said, rolling his eyes.

"Come on, you guys, cut it out," TC said. "I'm trying to concentrate."

TC was in the kitchen singing some jive, wearing his white coat and tails. he even found an old toupee at the dump. It was a black toupee, and it looked like it had been struck by lightning, so it was a bit frazzled, and it was standing on end. Jerry walked in through the back door, completely drenched.

"Whoa, baby!" he shouted. "Have you guys _seen_ it out there?!"

"Yeah, like, cats and dogs, man," Spook commented.

"I don't see any doggies outside," Courtney said. "And there aren't any kitties out there, either."

"Courtney!" Calvin shouted, frustrated. "It's just an expression! Don't you know anything?!"

"I'm only five," Courtney said, shrugging.

"All right, all right, knock it off," TC said. "Just my luck Martha and Reine are out, and the rest of the guys are out promoting Fiesta Night. Spook and I are stuck here entertaining the munchkins."

"Watch who you're calling a munchkin," Calvin warned.

"Okay, calm down, you guys," Jerry commented, practically peeling off his raincoat. "You're just irritable because it's gloomy out there. By the way, Top Cat, what's with the outfit?"

"Huh?" TC asked. "This? Oh, it's one of my acts."

"I don't get it. What's with the white coat and that hair?"

"What's the matter, haven't you ever heard of Cat Calloway?"

"Like, don't you mean _Cab_ Calloway, TC?" Spook asked.

"No Spook," TC said, straightening out the toupee. "_Cat_ Calloway."

"I just hope we don't get rained out," Jerry commented. "People might not want to come because of the weather."

TC was about to respond when the rest of his gang came in, all sopping wet.

"Boy, promoting out in the rain isn't much fun," Benny said.

"You guys look funny," Courtney said, giggling.

"What's the matter, haven't you ever seen a wet cat before?" TC asked.

The others just laughed, and got down to either working, rehearsing, or toweling off. As they were doing that, who should happen to walk into the coffee house but J. P. Starbuck.

"I demand to speak with the manager," he said.

"She ain't here," TC said. "She stepped out. But I'll be glad to take a message."

"You think you're so smart with your little Fiesta Night promotion," Mr. Starbuck said.

"It _is_ a rather clever idea, isn't it?"

"Not bad . . . . . coming from a moth-eaten old flea bag like you!"

"If I valued your opinion, that _might_ have hurt my feelings, Starbuck."

"Let me warn you, cat. You haven't got a chance. You'll never be able to compete with me!"

"I think we're doing a pretty good job. We're adding more flavors, to be revealed Saturday at our Fiesta Night. And our prices are _far_ cheaper than yours. Plus, _we've_ got entertainment, while you rely on television commercials, and radio ads. How many people talk about Apollo's at the water cooler? How many people hear about that place by word of mouth? How many people recommend Apollo's?"

"Just tell Mrs. Collins that I'm giving her one last chance to sell to me. This is going to be the next Apollo's location, and nothing's gonna stop me!"

"Nothing but me, that is. I find it fair to warn you, fella, I wouldn't try anything stupid. I have a very good friend who just happens to be a cop."

Mr. Starbuck just glared at Top Cat, and skulked off. Top Cat merely shook his head, and checked his nails.

"He _really_ should think about switching to decaf," he said.

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Spook's rendition of "La Cucaracha" is *NOT* the actual English translation of the song. It's a little something I made up._


	9. Hot Stuff

TC's Fiesta Night was coming along quite nicely. He managed to teach Reine how to Samba, and Choo-Choo, Benny, Brain, Fancy, and Spook were getting better with their music cues. Jerry was still a little nervous about singing in front of an audience, but he agreed to rehearse anyway.

The only thing Martha was worried about was the rain.

"It's really been disgusting all week!" Officer Dibble shouted. "I gotta tell ya, I think people are beginning to go downtown in row boats!"

"Yeah, we could get rained out," Martha said.

"We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it," TC shrugged. "By the way, Dib, how do you like our new name for the standard cup? We call it Cuppa Joe. We were inspired by you."

"Oh yeah?" Officer Dibble asked.

"Of course. You're always coming in wanting a cup of joe. So why not call it that?"

"Well, I'd better get back to my beat."

"You're gonna pound the beat in this rain, Dib?"

"It's a dirty job, TC, but someone's gotta do it."

TC nodded, and went to the back room to continue rehearsing.

The next day, the group continued rehearsals and all, and it was still pouring.

"Boy, like, it's ridiculous out there," Spook said.

"If this keeps up, we may have to build an ark," Choo-Choo commented.

"You guys are being ridiculous," TC said. Then he turned to Jerry. "Come on, Ol' Brown Eyes. Let me hear you croon. You're getting better, boy."

Jerry merely cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Come on, don't be so modest," TC prodded. "You sound great! You're gonna knock 'em dead! Right guys?"

"Yeah, Jerry-baby, like, you sound pretty good," Spook said.

"Right up there with Frankie Sinatra," Choo-Choo said.

"So why won't you sing now?" TC asked.

Jerry cleared his throat again, and wrote something down. He gave the paper to TC, and he skimmed it.

"I can't sing, I lost my voice," TC read. "What?! You lost your . . . . . how could you have lost your voice?!"

Jerry scribbled another note and handed it to TC.

"Too much rehearsal," he read. "Well that's no excuse!"

"Like, man, Jer, that's a drag," Spook said. "Have you tried, like, gargling?"

"What's wrong, you guys?" Martha asked, coming out of the kitchen.

"Ol' Brown Eyes has to bail out of Fiesta Night," TC said. "He lost his voice."

"And there's now guarantee he'll get it back by Saturday night," Choo-Choo said.

"I think I might have something that will help," Martha said, and she went into the kitchen. "I'll be right back."

TC, Choo-Choo, and Spook looked at each other, wondering what Martha had in mind. She returned a few moments later with one of her coffee mugs.

"Okay, Jerry, try this," she said. "It's my grandmother's recipe. She says it'll cure whatever ails you."

Jerry shrugged, and took a sip.

"Whoa!" he shouted suddenly. "What the heck's in that?! That's some strong stuff!"

"Works every time," Martha said.

"Looks like Ol' Brown Eyes is back," Choo-Choo said.

"What is this, anyway?" TC asked, taking the mug. He took a sip, and his fur nearly stood on end, and his whiskers stood straight up.

"_Erk_!" he shouted, as he stiffened. "Jer, you were right. This _is_ some strong stuff!"

"I call it Grandma Manning's Honey Lemon Tea," Martha said. "There's absolutely no coffee in it. It's black tea, honey, and lemon. It's perfect for colds, sore throats, and laryngitis."

"So I've noticed," Jerry commented.

"Like, maybe we should serve it for Fiesta Night," Spook said. "My old lady, like, as in my mother, used to drink hot tea when it rained. She had this saying, like, there was nothing like a good, strong cup of tea on a rainy day."

"I think Spook's got a good idea," Choo-Choo said. "Let's try it on Benny, Fancy, and Brain once they come back from their promoting."

A few moments later, the other three cats returned, looking more like drowned rats, because of the rain.

"Still pouring," Fancy reported. "It's dis_gust_ing out there!"

"Not to mention cold!" Benny shouted.

"Well, we've got something that'll warm you guys up," TC said. "It's called Honey Lemon Tea."

Martha poured the three wet cats some of the tea, and they drank it. Immediately, they felt a lot better.

"Duh, hey, this is great," Brain said. "It makes you feel nice and warm all over."

"A little strong," Fancy commented. "But I read somewhere that strong tea is good for you."

"We have a winner," TC said.

Finally, Saturday night arrived, and the gang was all set for Fiesta Night. Even though it was still pouring cats and dogs outside, Martha's Coffee Shoppe was packed. Choo-Choo turned on a spotlight, and Reine cut the house lights. Fancy stepped out from behind the curtain, and took the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Martha's Coffee Shoppe's Fiesta Night!" he announced. "Even though not all of our acts are fiesta style, but, hey, what can you do, right? Our first act, the talented Cat Calloway!"

The audience applauded, and the curtain opened, revealing Top Cat in his white coat and tails, and that wild black wig. The other cats sat behind him, like an orchestra. TC then went into a rendition of the Cab Calloway classic, "Hi De Ho Man," though he sang it as "Hi De Ho Cat." The audience even participated in the "call-response" bits. This one resulted in a thunderous applause. TC took a couple of bows, and the curtain closed. Fancy came back on stage.

"Next up, Calvin Collins," Fancy said, and he ducked backstage as Calvin took the stage with his guitar, and ran through some of the current rock and roll songs on the charts, as well as some Elvis Presley tunes.

"So far so good," TC said as he changed out of his Cat Calloway outfit, and put on the South American shirt. "How's it coming with the new coffee?"

"Well, I've got a blend of Columbian and Cuban, with a little bit of cinnamon, and some nutmeg," Choo-Choo said. "I call it Babalu Blend. I got the idea watching you rehearse, TC. You reminded me of Ricky Ricardo on _I Love Lucy_."

"Good, good," TC said. "What else?"

"This is called Caramel Coffee, TC," Benny said. "It's a little sticky, but I think it works."

"Tasty, mighty tasty," TC said, sampling Benny's latest. "Fancy, you're next."

"This is called Honey Cream," Fancy said. "It's not really a coffee, or a hot chocolate. I really don't know what I was thinking, but I sort of thinned down some honey and added sugar, milk, and cream to it."

"Not bad, not bad," TC said. "Matter of fact, it's pretty good. Okay, Spook. Let's see what you've got for me."

"Like, here you go, dad," Spook said. "I added Espresso beans to my Jive Five Java idea, as well as some honey. I call it Beebee's Buzz, like, after Beebee."

"_Awwwww_," Fancy, and Choo-Choo said in unison, in a teasing sort of way.

"Well, it certainly gives you a buzz," TC said. "It's probably the Espresso that does it."

"Beebee's come up with something for us, too," Spook said.

"Okay, Beebee, what have we got?" TC asked.

"I got the idea from Benny's Peppermint Blend," Beebee said. "More or less. Since the Peppermint Blend is white chocolate, I decided to take that and run, and I used a lot of cream. I call it Creme de la Creme a la Alley Cats. Named after all you crazy cats."

"But mainly for Spook, I'll bet," TC said, taking a sip. "But I like it. I like it a lot. Okay, Brain. Your turn. What have you got for me?"

"Duh, nothing yet, TC," Brain said. "I haven't been able to think of something."

"Well, you'd better come up with something fast," TC said. "We promised the crowd six new flavors, and we can't deliver only five!"

"Hey, TC!" Reine shouted. "Calvin's almost through. You know you and I go on after him."

"Right, right, right," TC said. "Go ahead and introduce us, Fancy. And Brain, keep working on a coffee idea!"

"Duh, okay, TC," Brain said.

Everyone, but Brain, walked out of the kitchen. Brain began grinding Cuban beans, but he didn't know what he could do with it to make it special. As he was thinking about it, someone came in through the back door. He was wearing a trench coat, a large hat, and a pair of sunglasses and black gloves.

"Duh, who are you?" he asked.

"Huh?!" the mystery man asked, startled.

"I said, duh, who are you," Brain repeated.

"Oh, I'm, uhhh, I'm, ummm . . . . ." the mystery man said, trying to think of a good excuse. "I'm the coffee inspector. Yeah that's it, coffee inspector!"

"Coffee inspector?"

"Yeah, I'm here for a surprise inspection."

"Surprise inspection? Gee, Mrs. Collins didn't tell us about a surprise inspection."

"Now, if she told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

"Duh, no, I guess not."

"You coming up with a new drink there?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to. TC wants a sixth blend for tonight, because we promised the crowd six new drinks, but I haven't come up with one. All I got is ground up Cuban coffee beans."

"Well, I think I might have something. Just don't tell your friend TC that I came up with it. I know what the people want. They want _hot_ coffee."

"Yeah, I like hot coffee. Especially on cold mornings. Hot drinks make you feel all nice and warm all over when you're cold."

"No, not that kind of hot. I mean _hot_! You know, something that gives it a big _kick_. Here. Try these."

The mystery man pulled a bottle of tabasco sauce, a can of chili powder, and a container of ground cayenne pepper out of the bag he was carrying, and handed it to Brain. Then he ran off. Brain just shrugged, and percolated the Cuban grounds. Then he put the pepper, chili powder, and tabasco sauce in it, just as Benny came in.

"Hey, Brain, you got the new coffee yet?" he asked.

"Duh yeah," Brain said. "Right here. Try it, Benny."

"Okay."

Benny took a sip of Brain's concoction, just as TC, Spook, and Martha came in. They saw Benny's face turn completely read, and steam came out of his ears.

"YAHOO-HOO-HOO!" he yelled, shooting skyward. He ended up hitting the ceiling, and crashing back down.

"What the heck _was_ that, Brain?!" TC asked.

"Duh, Cuban coffee, tabasco sauce, chili powder, and cayenne pepper," Brain said.

"Not a major seller, I don't think," Martha commented.

"Brain, Brain, Brain!" TC moaned. "You idiot!"

"Like, what in the world were you thinking?!" Spook shouted. "You got some pretty hot stuff in that coffee! Yecchhh! Nobody's gonna wanna drink _that_!"

"But a coffee inspector said . . . ." Brain started.

"What coffee inspector?" TC asked.

"Duh, the one that was here for a surprise inspection," Brain went on.

"Surprise inspection?" Martha repeated. "I didn't know anything about a surprise inspection."

"If everyone knew then it wouldn't be a surprise," Brain said.

"Ho boy," TC groaned. "Looks like we've been sabotaged by Apollo's. We'd better get rid of this stuff before . . . . ."

Unfortunately, TC didn't get a chance to get rid of that hot coffee. Choo-Choo had come into the kitchen and left with the pot before anyone could stop him. He began to go around the coffee house, pouring it.

"Chooch! Don't!" TC yelled.

"Don't what, TC?" Choo-Choo asked, but it was too late. The man Choo-Choo had served took a sip of the coffee, and made a face.

"What's in this coffee?" he asked. "Who's responsible for it?"

"He is," TC said, pushing Brain towards the man. "Now you've done it, Brain."

"Are you responsible for this spicy coffee?" the man asked.

"Duh, yes sir," Brain said. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to . . . ."

"Well, whether you mean to or not, you're a genius!" the man shouted.

"Huh?" Brain asked.

"Brain? A _genius_?!" TC asked, incredulously. "Now I've heard everything!"

"I've been suffering a horrible cold all week because of this blasted rain," the man said. "My sinuses were all clogged up and nothing I tried would clear them, but this spicy hot coffee of yours did the trick! I'm going to tell everyone I know about this spicy coffee! What do you call it?"

"Uhhh, Hot Stuff," TC said.

The man nodded, and began talking to the person next to him about the hot coffee.

"Brain, I don't know how you did it, but you did it," TC said.


	10. Catnapping

The night wore on. Fiesta Night looked like it was going to be a huge success. TC was belting out the ol' Desi Arnaz classic, "Babalu" (which was why he needed the congo drum). Jerry was on after him, and he was nervous.

"We keep tellin' ya, Jerry, you'll be great!" Fancy shouted. "Matter of fact, I like your crooning better than Sinatra's."

"Duh, all his girlfriends swoon at Sinatra whenever his records are playing when he's with them," Brain said. "But they don't swoon when you sing."

"Thanks a mill, Brain," Jerry said, sarcastically. "I am _so_ not ready for this!"

"Like, keep cool, Jerry-cat," Spook said. "You'll, like, knock 'em dead. You'll kill 'em. You'll bring the house down!"

"Singing sounds dangerous," Courtney commented.

"Those are just figures of speech, Court," Calvin said.

After some loud applause, TC came backstage.

"Okay, Ol' Brown Eyes," he said. "You're up."

"I can't do this," Jerry said.

"Sure you can," Benny said. "Just think of it as another rehearsal."

"Come on, Jer, it's now or never," TC said.

Jerry sighed, and gave in. He figured he might as well get it over with.

"Duh, I know how he feels," Brain commented. "I had a nightmare once where I was on a stage in front of a big audience, and then I realized I wasn't wearing any pants."

"Brain," TC said. "You _never_ wear pants."

"Duh, oh yeah. I forgot."

TC groaned, rolled his eyes, and shook his head. Sometimes, he wondered about Brain. Anyway, Jerry was doing pretty well. He was a little shaky through his first number, but he quickly eased into the swing of things, and added some other songs not done by Sinatra into the mix. As he was in the middle of a song, everything suddenly went black.

"Hey!" TC shouted. "What happened to the lights?"

"Like, who turned on the dark?" Spook asked.

"Gee, maybe it's a blackout across the entire city!" Benny shouted.

"Couldn't be," Choo-Choo said, looking out the back door. "Every other place on the block still has it's lights on."

"Mommy, I'm scared!" Courtney shouted, grabbing her big sister's hand.

"Calm down, Courtney," Martha said, turning on a flashlight. "A fuse just probably blew, that's all."

"Hey, what's going on back here?" Officer Dibble asked, walking over. "I was coming by to check out this Fiesta Night of yours, and there weren't any lights on. I figure I'd come in and check."

"Oh, the power went out," TC said. "Fancy, you go tell the crowd we're having some technical difficulties."

"Gotcha, TC," Fancy said.

"And I'll go check the fuse in the basement," Martha said.

"No, Mommy!" Courtney yelled, letting go of Reine's hand, and attaching herself to Martha's leg. "The monsters will get you!"

"Oh brother," Calvin groaned. "There are no such things as monsters, Courtney!"

"It'll only be five minutes, Courtney," Martha said.

"Better be a fast five minutes!" Fancy shouted, coming back into the kitchen. "The natives are getting restless!"

"Right," Martha said, and she took her flashlight, and went toward the basement.

"How much are you guys willing to bet that joker Starbuck is behind our little power outage?" TC asked.

"If I had it, a million bucks," Choo-Choo replied.

"Can't you arrest him _now_, Dib?" TC asked. "You know, breaking and entering, sabotage, that sort of thing?"

"Sorry, TC," Officer Dibble said. "I can't arrest him without any proof."

TC began muttering under his breath. A few minutes later, the lights came back on, and Martha came back upstairs.

"Well, I don't know who the wise guy was," she said, "but some joker pulled the switch down there that shut off the power."

"That figures," TC sighed. "Well, let's get back to Fiesta Night."

And that was all there was to that. The rest of the night went off without a hitch. It wasn't until about one in the morning when things folded. Everyone was wiped out, but they were in good spirits.

"What a night!" Jerry yawned. "I feel like I could sleep for a week!"

"See, this is why I planned this for a Saturday," TC said. "I knew we'd end up closing late, and the kiddies won't be sleeping in school."

"We made some pretty good money," Reine said.

"I'll say," Choo-Choo said. "I don't think I've ever seen that much cash at one time before!"

"How much did we make tonight, Mom?" Calvin asked.

"A little over two hundred fifty dollars," Martha said. "Not counting the tips."

"Hey, not bad!" TC shouted. "We'll have you all rolling in dough in no time at all!"

"Well, I say we call it a night," Martha said, yawning. "It's been a long night."

"Yeah, Choo-Choo said. "I'm bushed. Hey, take a look at Courtney. She couldn't wait 'til she got home!"

That happened to be true. Courtney was sitting on one of the counter stools, sound asleep, leaning against the counter.

"Aww, poor baby," Martha said, picking up her youngest daughter. "No wonder she's already asleep. It's _waaaayyy_ past her bedtime."

"She can't handle these all nighters," Calvin said, stifling a yawn.

"And neither can you," Martha said. "Come on, Calvin. It's way past your bedtime, too."

"Aw, Mom!" Calvin groaned.

"See you cats, later," Reine said, as she followed her mother and brother out the back door to head home.

"Get some rest, fellas," Martha said. "You've earned it!"

"Thanks, Mrs. C!" Benny called. Then he yawned. "Well, I'm gonna go hit the hay."

"So am I," Fancy said. "I'm too tired to even think about girls."

"That's tired," Choo-Choo commented. "Nighty-night, everybody."

"Like, come on, Beeb," Spook said, offering Beebee his arm. "I'll like, walk you to your pad."

"Crazy," Beebee said, linking her arm through Spook's, and the two of them left.

"Love is in the air," TC teased. "But they have the right idea."

"What's that, TC?" Brain asked.

"Time for bed,' TC replied, stretching and yawning. "I am beat!"

"Duh, yeah. Me too. See you tomorrow, TC."

TC nodded, and he and Brain separated. TC didn't return to the coffee shop until eleven o' clock that morning. Martha had been there since eight o' clock, and TC was surprised.

"I hope you at least got _some_ sleep, Martha!" he shouted.

"I did," Martha said. "I'm used to running on only four to six hours of sleep. Not only do I have a full time job here, but I'm also a full time mom."

"A full time career woman, _and_ a full time mother. You juggle priorities something fierce, what with keeping the customers happy, dealing with the drama of not having a date to the homecoming dance from your teenage daughter, the raging hormones and changes and development of your preteen son, and comforting your kindergarden daughter by scaring away the big bad Boogie Men hiding under her bed. You're not a mom. You're Super Mom!"

"It sure seems like it sometimes! By the way, where are the others?"

"Knowing them, Chooch, Spook, Brain, and Benny are still sleeping."

"What about Fancy?"

"He's probably with one of his girlfriends or something like that. So where is everybody, anyway?"

"It's just you and me, today. Jerry never works Sundays, and Reine's staying home with Calvin and Courtney today. I didn't have the heart to wake them up and drag them down here."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Well, I'm gonna head toward the kitchen and give you something special, Super Mom. And I'm gonna do it myself. With_out_ the help of my gang."

"I hope it doesn't involve tar, feathers, and Mr. Starbuck."

"No. If it did, I'd get the gang to handle that."

Martha stifled a laugh and she began putting some coffee into the percolators. As she was brewing, Mr. Starbuck happened to walk in.

"How did your little . . . . . promotion go last night?" he asked.

"Very well," Martha said. "We made some money out of the deal. Despite someone trying to sabotage one of our new coffees and then cutting the power, we did all right."

"You _sure_ you wouldn't want to sell to me? I'm willing to pay ten grand for this place."

"The answer is still no, Mr. Starbuck. I'm not selling you my coffee house."

"Think about what you're throwing away, Mrs. Collins. Besides, with your recipes under my belt, you'll be famous."

"Mr. Starbuck, for the final time, the answer is no!"

"You heard the lady!" TC shouted, coming out of the kitchen, having heard the conversation. "She's not interested in selling the place! Now get outta here before I force feed you a cup of Hot Stuff! Not everyone can take it, you know."

"Mark my words, Mrs. Collins," Mr. Starbuck said. "I'll be back, and I _will_ build my new Apollo's store right where your little shop is standing!"

And with that, Mr. Starbuck left. TC groaned, and rolled his eyes.

"That guy's really a piece of work," he said. "Anyway, here's a drink, especially for you. I call it French Vanilla Blend."

"Very tasty," Martha said, after she took a sip of TC's concoction. "This is sure to be a big hit, Top Cat. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd probably end up selling the place to Mr. Congeniality, and there goes the best cup of coffee I ever had!"

"You're wonderful, Top Cat. Just wonderful."

Martha bent down, and gave TC a kiss on his cheek. TC just cleared his throat.

"Errr, thanks," he said. "Thanks a lot. Now then, Super Mom, let's make some coffee!"

TC and Martha got to work immediately grinding beans, serving customers, the whole nine yards. By quitting time, they were both exhausted.

"I think I'm about ready to call it a day already," Martha said.

"I'll lock up," TC said. "Why don't you take the day off tomorrow? The gang and I will run the place, no problem at all. Take a day for yourself while the kids are at school."

"All right, TC. As long as you and your gang don't drink me out of business!"

TC laughed over that one, and wiped down the counters as Martha left. Once everything was cleaned up, he headed for the back door. He locked it, but before he could get anywhere, someone dropped a large, burlap bag over him. The mystery person then tied the bag closed, threw it over his shoulder, and ran off into a back alley, leaving TC's hat lying on the ground by the door.


	11. The Ransom of TC

The next morning, Benny, Brain, Choo-Choo, and Fancy went to the coffee shop for work. Jerry was already there, waiting on the customers.

"Hi, Jerry," Benny said. "Where's Mrs. C?"

"She called to tell me Top Cat convinced her to take the day off," Jerry said. "But Reine will be in at about three in the afternoon."

"Yeah, when school lets out," Choo-Choo nodded.

"Speaking of Top Cat, where is he?" Jerry asked. "And where's Spook for that matter?"

"Like, sorry we're late," Spook said, as he and Beebee ran into the coffee shop. "Beeb's alarm didn't go off, and, like, we were rushing."

"Did she tell you that when you went to pick her up?" Benny asked.

"Oh, I didn't pick her up," Spook said. "I, like, spent both nights over at her apartment."

"You spent two nights in a row at her place?" Fancy asked.

"Only on her couch," Spook said, shrugging. "Like, nothing happened, man."

"Have I taught you _noth_ing?!" Fancy shouted.

"Hey, where _is_ TC?" Choo-Choo asked.

"Duh, maybe he's taking the day off, too," Brain said. "After all, he and Mrs. Collins worked all day yesterday by themselves."

"I don't know," Jerry said. "Mrs. Collins told me TC said he was coming in."

"My guess is he's still sleeping in his trash can in the alley," Choo-Choo said. "That's TC for you. He makes his own hours."

"Duh, he'll probably be in later," Brain said, and the cats got to work.

A couple of hours passed, and Top Cat still hadn't shown up.

"Boy, this is really weird," Choo-Choo said. "I really think TC woulda been here by now."

"Like, I wonder where he is, anyway?" Spook said.

"Benny, go check out his trash can in the alley," Fancy said. "Maybe he's on Dibble's phone or something."

"Okay," Benny said, and then he left.

"Duh, but doesn't TC do this normally?" Brain asked.

"Yeah," Choo-Choo said. "When he says we'll do something, that just means me, Benny, Brain, Fancy, and Spook."

About twenty minutes later, Benny came back.

"What took you so long, Benny?" Jerry asked.

"TC wasn't in his can," Benny said. "So I checked around the pool hall, Schultz's delicatessen, and some of his other hangouts, but he wasn't anywhere! I even asked Officer Dibble and he hasn't seen him all day!"

"This is really weird," Choo-Choo said again. "Hey, you guys don't think somethin' happened to him, do ya?"

"I'm gonna check out back!" Benny shouted, and he raced out the back door. He returned five minutes later, holding TC's hat.

"Hey you guys!" he shouted. "Look what I found by the door!"

"Like, it's TC's hat!" Spook shouted.

"So what?" Beebee asked. "It probably fell off and he didn't notice."

"You don't know Top Cat like we do, Beebee," Choo-Choo said. "TC _never_ goes _any_where without his hat!"

"Yeah, like, that just ain't TC," Spook said. "Gee, like, I wonder what could've happened?"

The answer to that was simple. TC had been taken down to the wharf. The man carrying the bag went into a small, rundown shack hidden underneath the dock, and went inside.

"I don't think this is such a good idea, Moe," the man inside the shack said.

"Why not, Phil?" Moe asked. "Nobody saw me, and we're gettin' good money for this job. Don't tell me you're goin' straight!"

"No, it ain't that," Phil said.

"Then what's the problem?" Moe asked, letting the cat out of the bag. TC landed on the floor with a loud THUMP!

"Ouch!" he shouted. "Hey, watch it! I bruise like a grape!"

"Wachoo!" Phil sneezed. "I'm allergic to cats."

"Oh," Moe said.

"What a shame, what a shame," TC said. "I wouldn't want to cause discomfort on your friend there, so I'll just bid you a civil adieu."

"Hold it there, bucko!" Moe shouted, grabbing the back collar of TC's vest. "You ain't goin' nowhere 'til we says so!"

"Would you putting me down, friend?" TC asked. "You're wrinkling the material."

"I'll put ya down all right!" Moe shouted, and he roughly tossed TC into a wooden chair.

"Ooof!" TC shouted, "Hey, would you watch the merchandise, please?"

"Shaddup," Moe said, as he started to tie TC to the chair. "Get started on that ransom note, Phil."

"Gotcha, Moe," Phil said, picking up a newspaper, several magazines, a jar of paste, and a pair of scissors. "Wachoo!"

"Gesundheit," TC said.

The next morning, the cats went to the coffee house. Martha and Jerry were standing behind the counter. Jerry had called Martha and filled her in on what was going on the day before.

"Have you guys managed to find Top Cat yet?" Jerry asked.

"No, he just isn't anywhere," Benny said. "I'm starting to get worried."

"Duh, maybe he left town," Brain said.

"Like, why would he do a thing like that?" Spook asked.

"I dunno," Brain said, shrugging. "It was just a suggestion.

"Oh brother," Fancy groaned.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the back door, and an envelope slid inside from underneath it. Choo-Choo walked over, and picked it up.

"Uh oh," he said. "This isn't a good sign. It's for you, Mrs. C. But there's no return address on it, and the words have been cut out from newspapers."

"Let me see that," Martha said, and Choo-Choo handed her the envelope. She opened it, and took a letter out of it, made up of words cut out from the newspaper.

"Looks like some kind of ransom note," Jerry commented. "You know, like in the movies?"

"Like, that can't be good," Spook said. "What does it say?"

"Dear Mrs. Collins," Martha read. "We have your little kitty friend Top Cat. If you want to see him again, bring one million dollars in unmarked bills inside a black valise underneath the Brooklyn Bridge on the Manhattan side by midnight Saturday. Do not call the police, or else Top Cat gets it."

"TC's been kidnapped?!" Choo-Choo shouted, panicking.

"More like catnapped," Jerry commented.

"Duh, I'll go tell Officer Dibble!" Brain shouted.

"Hold it, Brain!" Fancy shouted, grabbing the orange cat by the back of his T-shirt. "The note said _not_ to call the police!"

"But, like, what are we gonna do?" Spook asked.

"We'll pay the ransom, that's what," Martha said.

"But we don't have a million dollars," Jerry said.

"I know, but we have until midnight Saturday to raise it," Martha replied. "That gives us at least four days."

"How are we gonna do that?" Benny asked.

"Duh, maybe if we raise the prices on the drinks," Brain said.

"No good," Beebee said. "Then, like, people would stay away in droves."

"I got it," Spook said. "We'll offer some new drinks. Drinks that are still affordable, but cost slightly more. We'll offer up a selection of cold drinks!"

"Iced coffee?" Fancy asked.

"No, man," Spook said. "Like milkshakes. Ice cream sodas. Stuff like that."

"My girlfriend's got a milkshake machine at her place," Jerry said. "I'll give her a ring and ask her if we can borrow it."

"I'll go home and get my blender and my food processor," Martha said, checking her watch. "I have to pick up Courtney from school soon, anyway, so I'll pop over to the grocery store and get some supplies. Make a list for me, would you, Spook?"

"Like, you got it, Mrs. C," Spook said. "The rest of you get busy jotting down ideas! We've got a lot of work to do, and, like only four days to do it!"

"Like, what do you want me to do, Spook?" Beebee asked.

"Like, you, me, and Jer will percolate the coffee and serve the customers," Spook said.

The cats quickly got to work. Jerry hung up the phone and got to work taking coffee orders, while Spook made the coffee and Beebee served it. The other cats did the same for the time being.

At around noon, a girl with brown hair in a flip came into the coffee house, carrying a milkshake machine.

"Hi, Linda!" Jerry called, waving. "Gang, this is Linda. My girlfriend. Linda, this is the gang."

"Hi," Linda said. "I still don't get why you need to borrow my mom's milkshake machine for the coffee house, Jerry."

"I'll let Spook field that one," Jerry said, taking the machine from Linda.

"Like, it's simple, really," Spook said. "We're trying to, like, you know, draw in more variety, so we can get more customers. So, we figure we blend some milkshakes."

"Why don't you try fruit smoothies?" Linda suggested.

"Fruit smoothies?" Spook repeated. "Like, what goes into those?"

"They're like milkshakes, except you don't make them with ice cream," Linda said. "You use crushed ice, milk, and fruit, and then you mix them up in the blender."

"Hey, like, not a bad idea," Spook said. "Jerry, does Mrs. C have a blender back there?"

"Yeah, I think so," Jerry said. "I'll go check."

"Like, thanks for the tip, Linda," Spook said. "I'll get you a Cup of Mud. On the house. And don't worry, it's not really mud. It's a really thick hot chocolate. It, like, just looks like mud."

Linda laughed, and sat down at the counter.

Half an hour later, Martha returned to the coffee shop with Courtney, and both of them were lugging in bags of groceries.

"Okay, fellas!" she called. "I've got some stuff here. What do we do first?"

"We get crackin'," Spook said. He pulled a bottle of apple juice out of one bag, and seltzer water out of another.

"May I have some apple juice before you use it, Mr. Spook?" Courtney asked.

"Tell you what," Spook said. "Like, you can be the first to try my Apple Juice Cocktail."

"Don't cocktails have alcohol in them, Spook?" Choo-Choo asked.

"Like, not this one, Choo-Choo-baby," Spook said. He poured some apple juice into a measuring cup, poured it in a glass, and did the same with the seltzer water. He kept this up until he was satisfied.

"Okay, Courtney-baby," Spook said. "Give 'er a taste. See if you like it."

Courtney took the glass, and took a sip. Then she practically drank the entire glass in one gulp.

"It's good!" she shouted. "It tastes like orange soda pop, except apple."

"And, like, it'll make your mom happy because it isn't loaded with as much sugar as soda pop," Spook said. "Like, what do you say to that, Mom?"

"I say, crazy, daddy-o," Martha said with a laugh.

The others quickly got moving. Before closing time, the group came up with eighteen new cold drink combinations.

"Okay, so like, we got the following," Spook said, making a list. "My Apple Juice Cocktail, Lemon Lime Punch, and Raspberry Smoothie, Chooch's Strawberry Orange Twist, Mango Juice Cocktail, and Cherry Vanilla Smoothie, Fancy's Strawberry Banana Smoothie, Mardi Gras Punch, and Root Beer Float, Benny's Berry Blend, Blueberry Smoothie, and Orange Cream Smoothie, Beebee's non-alcoholic Pina Colada Smoothie, Tropical Twist, and Citrus Twist, and Brain's Pistachio Milkshake and Coconut Lime Drink. Which was, like, the tastiest of everything we came up with!"

"Yeah," Choo-Choo said. "That was delicious, Brain. Who woulda thought limes and coconuts could be a tasty combination?"

"Duh, yeah," Brain said. "My mama used to feed that to me whenever I got an upset tummy. She said if you put the lime in the coconut and drink them both up, it'll help cure your belly ache."

"I just hope we can manage to raise a million bucks by Saturday with these," Fancy said.

The others agreed.

Meanwhile, Phil and Moe were at their shack, playing cards. TC was just sitting there watching them. He couldn't really do much else, what with being tied to that chair and all. As they were sitting around, the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Moe said. "Hello? Oh, hiya, boss. Yeah, we got him. Nobody saw me. Naw, he can't escape on us. We got him tied up for now. Yeah, Phil delivered the note. All he did was sneak into the alley behind the place and he slipped it under the door. But we gotta little problem. See, Phil's allergic to cats and . . . . . Well, see, boss . . . . . yeah. Okay."

Moe talked a little more to his boss, while Phil just sat there, sneezing.

"Nasty sounding cold you've got there, Phil," TC said.

"I told you," Phil said, his nose completely stuffed up. "It's dot a code! I'b allergic to cats!"

"Sounds like a cold to me. Yes, I know the difference between a cold and an allergy. And that, my friend, is definitely a cold."

"Doh it ain't. It's by allergy to you. You're a cat, ain'tcha?"

"Me? A _cat_? Oh no, no, no, no, _no_! Whatever gave you _that_ idea? Me a cat? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!"

"Well, your dabe's Top Cat, ain't it?"

"Don't you know what the word cat means, Phil? Don't you keep up with the jive? When someone's a cat, it means they're a swinger! A real cool fella. The hippest of the hip, you get what I mean? You dig my jive?"

"But why's your dabe Top Cat?"

"Because Top Swinger sounds more like a carnival ride. I needed something with a little more punch. Something short and sweet, you understand."

"So . . . . if you're dot a cat . . . . thed what _are_ you?"

"I'm an aardvark."

"Oh."

"And you're not allergic to aardvarks, are you?"

"Doh. I do't think."

"There, you see? You, my friend, have got yourself a nasty, nasty, _nasty_ cold! And before you know it, that cold could turn into the flu!"

"It cad?"

"Yeah, sure it can! And then, that cold will turn into pneumonia!"

"Gee . . . . . wachoo!"

"And then that pneumonia could lead to . . . . . well, I'd rather not go into something that unpleasant, Phil. It's too horrible to think about!"

"You bean . . . . ."

"Yes, Phil. Check out time."

"Oh boy . . . . ."

"But fortunately, I know exactly what will help you! You see, down at Martha's Coffee Shoppe last Saturday, we had ourselves a little Fiesta Night, and it was pouring down in buckets! One person came in with a cold, and we gave him our special Hot Stuff coffee. Cleared that cold right up. Why, I even heard Queen Elizabeth herself got wind of this Hot Stuff, and ordered some for herself. And that's all she ever drinks at tea time these days. Tell you what, I'll treat you to a cup of Hot Stuff myself. If you'll be so kind as to untie me, we'll be on our way."

Phil shrugged, and started to untie TC, and, of course, started sneezing non-stop the closer he got to TC, when Moe hung up the phone and walked over.

"What do you think you're _do_ing?!" he shouted, bopping Phil in the head with his fist.

"He said he was godda get be subthig for by code," Phil said.

"You ain't _got_ a cold!" Moe yelled. "You're allergic to cats, remember?!"

"But he said he wasn't a cat. He said he was ad aardvark."

"Do you even know what an aardvark looks like?!"

"Doh, but . . . . ."

Moe groaned, and grabbed a dictionary off the bookshelf and opened it. He showed Phil a picture of an aardvark.

"_That's_ an aardvark," he said. "They got long ears, and long noses."

"Would you believe I've had my ears cropped and got a nose job?" TC asked.

"Shaddup, flea bag!" Moe shouted, tying a gag over TC's mouth to keep him quiet.

"How log we godda put up wid dis cat?" Phil asked.

"Just until Saturday at midnight," Moe said. "The boss is sure that the Collins lady's gonna pay up."

"What if she doesn't?"

"Then we'll get to see if there really _is_ more than one way to skin a cat!"

TC gulped. He had always _hated_ that expression. He hoped the others would come through for him.


	12. The Rescue

Days passed, and it was soon Saturday. The cold drinks were a big success, and business had never been better. But by closing time, there was still a problem.

"We're still short by quite a lot," Martha sighed, as she calculated how much money the group had on her calculator.

"Can't we cash in those savings bonds of ours, Mom?" Calvin suggested.

"Absolutely not," Martha said. "Those savings bonds are going toward your college educations."

"But Mom, Top Cat's more important than college," Reine said.

"No, we couldn't ask you guys to do that," Fancy said.

"But we wanna help!" Calvin shouted.

"Honey, I know you and your sisters want to help," Martha said, putting her hand on the eleven-year-old's shoulder. "But even if we _did_ cash in your savings bonds, we still wouldn't have enough."

"We'll never make a million bucks by midnight," Choo-choo sighed.

The others sighed. They had to figure out a way to get a million bucks and fast! As they were thinking, none other than Mr. Starbuck came into the shop. Everyone groaned.

"Like, terrific," Spook said, sarcastically. "Just what we _don't_ need right now."

"Looking a little depressed there, Mrs. Collins," he commented. "Anything wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong, per say," Martha said, coolly. There was no way in the world she was going to let this guy know what was going on.

"Man, like, are you _still_ trying to get Mrs. C to sell the place?" Spook asked.

"I'm relentless, Greensleeves," Mr. Starbuck said, glaring at the green cat. "This is my final offer, Mrs. Collins. One million dollars. Not one penny more, or one penny less!"

"Could you hold on for one moment, Mr. Starbuck?" Martha asked. "I need to consult with my staff."

"Take your time, take your time," Mr. Starbuck said. The group went into the kitchen.

"Did you hear that?" Benny asked. "One million dollars! That's just what we need to get TC back!"

"I know, Benny, like, I know," Spook said. "But I don't like it."

"I don't either," Martha said. "But what choice do we have?"

"I'm beginning to smell a rat," Spook said.

"Duh, where?" Brain asked. "If there are rats here, the place could get shut down!"

"No, Brain," Fancy said. "That's not what Spook meant."

"Yeah, like, he's saying something's not right here," Beebee said.

"Benny, like, where'd you find TC's hat?" Spook asked.

"By the back door," Benny said.

"Okay, and like, there are two places to go once you step out the back," Spook went on. "One way is toward the street where there are a bunch of people around. The other is, like, in the back alley. My guess is whoever grabbed TC went down the back alley so nobody would see him."

"That's a good point, Spook," Choo-Choo said. "But what are you getting at?"

"I'm getting at this," Spook said. "Mrs. C, don't sell the place just yet. Just keep up what we've been doing so far, and like, collect as much money for the ransom as you can."

"All right," Martha said, shrugging.

"Chooch, you, Beebee, and Jerry come with me," Spook went on. "The rest of you stay here and help Mrs. C."

"Where are we going, Spook?" Beebee asked, as she, Jerry, and Choo-Choo followed Spook out the back door.

"Like, we're gonna go look for TC!" Spook shouted.

Martha went back out to the counter, followed by the others. Mr. Starbuck was patiently waiting for them.

"Well?" he asked. "Have you made a decision?"

"Yes," Martha said. "Give us until midnight. I'll let you know my decision then."

"Very well, then," Mr. Starbuck agreed. "I'm a fair man."

"Yeah right," Calvin muttered under his breath. Reine nudged him in the ribs as hard as she could.

Meanwhile, Spook, Choo-Choo, Beebee, and Jerry were making their way down the alley. There really was only one place to do down there, anyway, and it happened to be right at the Brooklyn Bridge, and he docks nearby.

"Like, I get the feeling this is it!" Spook shouted. "Lets head for the docks."

The quartet went directly for the docks, and saw a small run down shack underneath them. Quietly, they crept up to the window, and looked inside.

"Hey," Choo-Choo said. "Look, you guys! It's TC!"

"Yeah, like, they got him as a captive audience, you know?" Spook said.

"Hey, quiet, you guys," Jerry said. "Listen."

"How much longer we gotta wait?" Phil asked. "Wachoo! This is driving me crazy!"

"Not too much longer," Moe said. "It'll all be over in a couple more hours."

"But what if that Collins dame ain't got a million smackers?"

"She'll get it. The boss is sure she'll get it. They know what'll happen to their pal if they don't."

TC glared at the two of them, and began writhing around, rocking the chair he was tied to, in an attempt to get loose, and yelling into the piece of cloth covering his mouth.

"I just hope she pays up," Phil grumbled. "Wachoo! My allergies are really beginning to bug me!"

"Hey," Spook said. "Like, he's allergic to cats!"

"So what?" Choo-Choo asked.

"So, it gives me, like, a great idea!" Spook said. "Jerry, go back to the coffee house and get the other cats."

Jerry nodded, and started running back to Martha's Coffee Shoppe. Shortly thereafter, he returned with Fancy, Brain, and Benny.

"I don't get it, Spook," Fancy said. "What do you need us for?"

"Like, easy," Spook said. "We're gonna go play this rescue gig. One of the kidnappers is, like, allergic to us cool cats."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Jerry commented. "You sure it'll work?"

"Sure I'm sure!" Spook shouted. "Now, like, you'd better get back to the Shoppe, Jerry, and help Mrs. C with the customers. We'll, like, take it from here."

Jerry shrugged, and went back to the coffee shop, wondering what in the world Spook was up to.

"Okay, gang," Spook said. "Like, huddle. Here's the action."

Spook whispered his plan to the others.

Inside, meanwhile, Phil was going completely crazy, and his sneezing was driving Moe crazy.

"Would you knock it off already?!" he shouted.

"I can't help it!" Phil shouted. "Wachoo! I'm allergic to that rotten furball!"

"Just try to keep it down," Moe grumbled, and then he turned to TC, who was still rocking the chair back and forth, yelling as best as he could, trying to get loose, or at least loosen his gag. Moe glared at him, and picked up a lead pipe that was laying on the floor.

"And as for you, fuzz face," he said. "Knock that off, or else I'm gonna knock _you_ off!"

TC stopped immediately. Moe threw the pipe aside, and sat down, hoping to relax. Just as he sat down, there came a knock upon the door.

"_Now_ what?!" he shouted. The door suddenly opened, and there stood five cats. It was Top Cat's gang.

"Tah-dah!" they shouted in unison. Then, they began dancing the can-can into the shack, and singing that familiar cartoon can-can tune.

"Dah, da-da-da-da-da-da-dah, da-da-da-da-da-dah, da-da-da-da-dah, da-da-da-da-da-da-da! Dah, da-da-da-da-da-dah, da-da-da-da-da-dah, da-da-da-da-dah. Dah-dah!"

Phil, Moe, and TC looked at the five cats as if they were completely nuts.

"What the . . . . ." Moe said.

"Okay, gang," Spook said. "Like, let's do the sickeningly sweet, cute, cuddly, kitty bit! On your mark . . . . ."

"Get set . . . . ." Fancy said.

"Go!" Choo-Choo shouted, and the five cats charged Phil and began rubbing up against his legs, mewing and purring like real cats.

"Oh doh," Phil moaned. Then he began sneezing non-stop. "Wachoo! Wachoo! Wachoo! Wachoo!"

"All right, flea bags!" Moe shouted. "Out you . . . . ."

Before Moe could finish his sentence, a sauce pan connected with his head. CLANG!

"Anybody get the license number of that truck?" he asked, dazedly.

"Like, here, Chooch," Beebee said, handing a pot to Choo-Choo. "You take care of him. I'll take care of Top Cat."

"Gotcha, Beebee," Choo-Choo said, jumping onto the dazed hood's shoulders for the time being. Beebee ran over to TC an took off his gag.

"Hiya, Top Cat," she said.

"Took you guys long enough," TC said, as Beebee started to untie him. "What kind of rescue _is_ this, anyway?"

"Like, cut us a break, man. We didn't have much time to work with."

"Hold it right there!" Moe shouted, getting up. "Not one more move outta you, pretty kitty, or else I'm gonna . . . . ."

Choo-Choo then slammed the pot over Moe's head, and whacked it with a wooden spoon. Then he began banging out "The Anvil Chorus" on it.

"I'll get him, Moe!" Phil shouted, and he reached for a nearby baseball bat, but ended up grabbing Brain by mistake.

"Duh, gee, I didn't even know you cared," he said, giving Phil a kiss on the nose before he ran off.

"Wachoo!" Phil sneezed. "Ho boy. I can't take this!"

"And we've got even more for you!" Fancy shouted. "It's shedding season!"

"Like, yeah, pops," Spook shouted, jumping up and down. "Don'tcha just _love_ shedding season?"

The other cats followed suit, and multi-colored hair began flying all over the place. That did it. Phil began sneezing like crazy, and he found he couldn't stop.

"Okay, like, that did it," Spook said. "Let's cut out!"

"Good idea!" TC shouted.

As the cats ran to the door, a gunshot rang out, causing the seven of them to immediately halt in their tracks. Moe was standing there with a gun in his hand.

"Nobody move!" he shouted. "Nobody's going anywhere!"

Moe then walked over to the cats, and grabbed Spook by his tie, lifting the green cat up until he was at face-level.

"I can't stand wise guy alley cats," he said. Then, he began pulling on Spook's tie.

"Gaahhkkkk!" Spook choked.

"Hey, you can't do that to him!" TC shouted.

"Pipe down, flea bag, unless you want a belly full of lead!" Moe shouted.

The other cats just froze. They didn't know what they could do. As they stood there, helpless, sirens suddenly filled the air, and the door flew open.

"Freeze!" Officer Dibble shouted, pointing his gun at Moe. "Drop that cat, and put your hands up!"

"Oh terrific," Phil said, nasally. "The cops."

Moe dropped Spook (literally), and put his hands up. He figured it would be a heck of a lot easier if he just gave up now, instead of resisting arrest.

"You know, for once in my life, I'm glad to see ya, Dib," TC commented.

"But, like, what are you doing here, anyway?" Spook asked. "I thought the note we got said _not_ to call the police."

"Your friend Jerry figured you could use some back up," Officer Dibble said, slapping his handcuffs on Phil and Moe.

"So long, million bucks," Moe groaned. "Hello, Sing-Sing."

"Mr. Starbuck ain't gonna be happy when he hears we goofed," Phil said.

"Mr. Starbuck?!" Choo-Choo shouted.

"Yeh," Phil said. "He promised us a million bucks and free coffee for life if we kidnapped Top Cat."

"Like, I knew he was up to something!" Spook shouted.

"_Now_ can you arrest that guy, Dibble?" TC asked.

"Darn right," Officer Dibble said. "Let's go!"

Once the two hoods were in the back of the police car, the group drove over to Martha's Coffee Shoppe immediately. Mr. Starbuck was there already, and Martha was up against a rock and a hard place. It was almost midnight, and she hadn't heard from the cats.

"Looks like we're going to have to sell," Reine said.

"I hate to do it," Martha sighed. "But it's the only way to get Top Cat back."

Martha went to the front, where Mr. Starbuck was waiting.

"Well, Mrs. Collins," he said. "It's nearly midnight. What's your decision?"

"As much as I hate to do it, Mr. Starbuck," Martha said. "I'm afraid, circumstances being what they are, I'm going to have to accept your offer of a million dollars."

"I knew you'd see it my way."

Mr. Starbuck took a black valise out from under the table, and handed it to Martha. She opened it, just to make sure it was all there. She was just about to go get the deed to her shop, when the door flew open, and there were the seven cats, and Officer Dibble.

"Hold it right there! Stop everything!" TC shouted.

"Top Cat!" Martha shouted.

"What the . . . . ." Mr. Starbuck said, flabbergasted.

"Your little scheme didn't work, Starbuck," TC said. "Book him, Dibble."

"Right, TC," Officer Dibble said, walking over to Starbuck. "You're under arrest!"

"Oh yeah?" Mr. Starbuck said. Then, he grabbed the valise from Martha, and whacked Officer Dibble over the head with it as hard as he could, and then he took off running.

"After him!" TC shouted, and the cats raced after him.

"You'll never catch me now!" Mr. Starbuck yelled. Unfortunately, he ran right into Hoagy's alley, and he didn't know it as well as the cats did.

"We got him now," TC said. "Head him off at the pass, boys!"

"Right, TC!" Brain, Spook, and Choo-Choo shouted, as they ran ahead. The three of them grabbed a trash can, turned it to it's side, jumped on top of it, and began rolling it down the alley.

"What the heck?" Mr. Starbuck asked, as he saw the three cats coming for him. He tried to run, but he couldn't get away fast enough. He collided with the trash can, and Spook, Brain, and Choo-Choo slammed the can over his head.

"Like, it's in the can," Spook said.

"Nice work, you guys," Officer Dibble said, coming over, and slapping the cuffs on Starbuck. "As I was saying, Starbuck, you're under arrest!"

"I hate cats," Mr. Starbuck growled, as Officer Dibble led him to his squad car.


	13. A Happy Ending

"For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good feeeellllooooowwww! Which nobody can deny!"

"Somebody's singing off key," TC said. "But I appreciate the gesture."

TC, his gang, Officer Dibble, Beebee, Jerry, Martha, and her family were all gathered at the coffee shop, celebrating their victory.

"I propose a toast to Top Cat," Martha said, picking up her cup of coffee. "Without his help, my coffee shop would be doomed."

"Here, here!" Fancy shouted, raising his own cup.

"And, I propose a toast to myself," TC said. "For saving the best cup of coffee I ever had in my life!"

"Like, that's TC for you," Spook said, shrugging.

"And I also propose a toast to Spook," TC went on. "Without whom, I wouldn't be here. Even if that rescue plan _was_ the corniest thing I've ever seen."

"Well, like, it worked, didn't it?" Beebee said, shooting TC a dirty look. Then she cuddled up next to Spook. "Like, you really swing, Spooky-baby."

"Like, thanks Beeb," Spook said.

"Spooky-baby?" TC repeated. "Ho boy. That's it. We've lost him."

"Hey, like, chill out, TC," Spook said.

"I'm just kidding," TC said, and he winked at Spook. "Spooky-baby."

Everyone else laughed and began giving Spook a hard time, but he didn't really care. Martha stepped into the kitchen for a moment. She returned a few moments later, with a tray full of drinks.

"Okay, fellas," she said. "In honor of my heroes, I've come up with a little something for each of you. First of all, I have something here I call Benny's Blend, which I made with blueberries, cream, and seltzer."

"Hee, hee!" Benny laughed after he took a sip. "The bubbles tickle my nose!"

"Next, Brain Juice," Martha said, handing a cup to Brain. "Made with mango, coconut, orange, lemon, and lime."

"Duh, gee, it tastes good," Brain said.

"Too bad it won't make ya smarter," TC said. Nobody acknowledged him.

"Next, a blend of chocolate milk, seltzer, and whipped cream," Martha said. "This is called Fancy That."

"I'll definitely be drinking to that, Mrs. C!" Fancy shouted, taking the cup.

"This one's for Choo-Choo," Martha said, handing the cup to the pink cat.

"Pink lemonade," Choo-Choo said, after taking a sip. "I like it."

"And I call this one Spook's Brew," Martha said. "But there's no alcohol in it, whatsoever. I just mixed lime juice with ginger ale."

"Like, interesting mix," Spook said, sampling his drink. "I dig it."

"And last, but certainly not least," Martha said. "The Top Cat Special."

"I'm flattered, really," TC said, taking the cup, and taking a sip. "Hey, this is pretty good. What's in it?"

"My secret," Martha said, with a wink.

"Just like that hot chocolate recipe of yours, huh?" TC asked. "Well, maybe I don't want to know, anyway. It'll spoil the mystery."

"And, as another reward," Martha said. "You cats can have all the coffee you can drink for free."

"Hooray!" the cats cheered.

"Like, looks like all's well that ends well, huh, TC?" Spook asked.

"You said it, Spook," TC said. "I love a story with a happy ending."

The End


End file.
